The Christening
by Helena Mira
Summary: The christening of Hal and Phoebe's first child brings in family from near and far, all of whom are there to celebrate, in their various ways, the birth and baptism of Maisie. Subplots include the "bonding time" of Phoebe's cousins with Hal's brothers and worries with Trelawney. But the balloon ladies drop in along with Uncle Alfred so the revelry is not limited to one generation.
1. Prologue

_I do not own (most of) these characters and I make no profit from their use._

**Maisie's Christening**

**Prologue**

Catherine Everett was feeling very pleased about how nicely all of her plans for the christening party of her newest grandchild were working out. The date was the Sunday before Thanksgiving, right after the regular Sunday service at St. Andrew's. Pastor Paul was officiating and Pastor Jason was to help him. The ceremony of course was very simple, but following it, they would all return to their house for the party, about forty or more guests in all.

Despite the fact that the guest list had been pared back to only closest family and friends, Phoebe still thought that it was too big. However, this time her son came down on _her _side and said that as long as the total number did not exceed fifty, she could go ahead with her plans. Phoebe could not even object that there was too much work for her, since her son Ben was footing the bill for a caterer who would bring along a couple of wait staff to help.

She was happy that David, Annabel, and Charlie would be staying at their house. It would give her the chance to get to know them all better. And it was nice that all of the young people would be staying at the local hotel together. This was the kind of situation that would allow all of them more of the kind of informal bonding time they would have had if there had been a big wedding. There was only one bit of oddness about the christening that still bothered her.

She still for the life of her could not imagine why Tom Williams was to be the child's godfather. After all, despite the fact that he was the grandfather to the other three children, he was no relation at all to the Everetts or the Figalillys. She knew that there was some kind of sentimental foolishness involved on Phoebe's part, but it still didn't make sense.

During the emotional time that they had passed through with young Trelawney last summer she, for whatever reason, had declared that he was the "good king," whatever that meant. Well, she did know _what, _it meant, but he was an odd choice even for that role. And then there was the fanciful notion that Phoebe had had when she swore that the first person to feel the baby kick was _him, _after he had offered himself as a surrogate grandparent to the child.

But all of that seemed very far away now, and as they had returned to the more mundane world from Trelawney's fantastic world of archetypes, she could no longer see the choice as appropriate. No, one had to do these things right among the families. Since Emmeline, a Figalilly, was the godmother, the godfather should obviously have been an Everett. And she wasn't exactly pleased with the response that she got when she had hinted around at this to Phoebe.

"Well," was her answer. "Since neither Bob nor Ben belong to any church, it would have been a bit awkward to ask either to stand in as a future spiritual guide for the child. Emmeline may claim to be an atheist, but she was raised in the Church of England and still goes occasionally. No Figalilly could ever be a true atheist anyway. She just likes to push her parents' buttons with all that nonsense."

She had no answer for that. Once they had been confirmed, Bob and Ben had both refused to go to church. Hal had barely paid lip service to the faith, as did his first wife Helen. It had been a bit of a struggle to get the other three baptized. In fact, it had been one of the only things that she and Bernice had agreed upon. For this reason, Helen had been much less fussy about godparents.

Keeping that in mind, she didn't mention it again. She knew only too well that if she tried to initiate another discussion, her son would agree with his wife and point out that Bob was Hal's godfather and Ben was Butch's. And they had never lifted a finger to encourage their involvement in religion.

In fact, Hal would be a couple of years late in making his confirmation in the spring because he had not been going to church at all until Phoebe had come. He would be making it with Trelawney, underscoring for her, her son's lax attitude toward church until recently. Even now, she suspected that he only did his weekly duty for his wife's sake.

She thought that it was a pity that Pastor Jason was not Episcopal priest. Pastor Paul at their church was kind and good with the older folk, but not very interested in the young people. Only Trelawney and Prudence had any real enthusiasm for their church and Prudence's was more social than religious. Hal's new girlfriend Sharon regularly attended church because she wanted to, but she was Catholic like Trelawney's friend Francine. Given the choice, her grandson would go with her and in fact, to Phoebe's displeasure, he was hinting that he would do that after he was confirmed.

She thought that it was something that, wise as Phoebe was where children were concerned, she should leave be. If Hal felt no real loyalty towards the denomination of Christianity into which he had been baptized it was certainly no fault of hers. She should be grateful that at a time when churchgoers, _especially _young people, were dropping like flies, he wanted to attend _some _form of church. And Father Bob at St. Peters was an energetic pastor and amusing character. Like Pastor Jason, he was young and got along well with the youth in his flock. It clearly made a difference.

Besides, the one who really needed some moral guidance right now was Butch, who seemed to be growing more antagonistic towards his father every day. Rob's comment was that he needed a little reminder of the fourth commandment about honoring his father and mother. Hal thought that it was a waste of time and his brother, Hal, would have preferred to simply "clobber" him.

However, Butch had promised Rob that he would be on his best behavior for the Christening, so there wasn't much else for it at the moment. Her greater concern was Trelawney, who had been buzzing around anxiously lately as she waited for the family to arrive. She knew that she wanted to see her Auntie Anna, who she had not seen in nearly two years. And she also wanted to speak with Uncle David.

Trelawney, to put it simply, wanted to return to her sister's home. She had been living with them up the street now for about ten months and it appeared that most of the reasons for moving her there originally were gone. The external threats to her safety were removed following the death of the unicorn and the expulsion of Aunt Henrietta from their lives. Phoebe was managing the four children nicely and Trelawney would be no added burden. In fact in many ways, she would be helpful.

Rob also wanted Trelawney to go home. He very much wanted to do some traveling and was tired of sharing his home with an ever-present adolescent. He would much prefer to have his privacy back and felt that it was time for Hal to work out some of his own problems with the kids rather than relying on them to step in all the time. Catherine actually liked the fact that they were needed and the fact that other than the Christening details, she and Phoebe had developed a very warm relationship.

But Rob wanted a little more distance there too. He was afraid that he would never be able to get his wife to leave town for even a brief holiday if she became any more "entangled" in their lives. Despite her misgivings, Catherine knew that for the most part Rob was right and that her desire to keep Trelawney was a bit selfish. She loved both her and Phoebe as the daughters she had always wanted but never had. And little Trelawney's way of calling her "Mama Kate" was most endearing.

Rob pointed out to her that Trelawney would no doubt continue to call her Mama Kate whether she lived with them or not. And Catherine did fill an emotional need in her life that her sister could not, that of surrogate mother. _And _Trelawney was forever coming up with sewing projects that Phoebe had no time to help her with.

All things considered, Catherine would not lose as much as she thought she would by returning the girl to her sister. But Catherine, in her own way, was also stubborn. Even though she knew that she would have to let go eventually, she was going to hold on for as long as she could. However, even she had to recognize that the decision where Trelawney resided was in the hands of her Uncle David. And Rob had expressly forbidden her from approaching him on her own behalf.

On the eve of the Figalilly family's arrival, the girl was very quiet. Pastor Jason had asked that she be brought in the next day for a talk. Catherine hoped that he would be able to lift her spirits before the family arrived. Ostensibly, she had remained in California because that was where she would be happy, but she didn't seem very content. However, with all the family coming in, no doubt she was on tenterhooks just as Phoebe was. With any luck, in a few days she would be happy again.

_To be continued . . ._


	2. More Musings by Maisie

**More Musings by Maisie**

_Can we really know what any infant thinks? When the infant is born into a special race of people, she is capable of thinking many things. But what would you think if you were simply dropped two hundred years into the future? This is what Maisie thought about being born in the 1970's._

As the time of her baptism approached, Maisie Everett was developing an ever greater awareness of the world around her. It was rather ironic because at the time when she was most fully aware and ready to interact with the world around her, her ability to know all of her past lives would be gone. She could not fully engage in her present life, if she was consciously aware of all that had happened to her soul before. But that was the way that it was.

Those such as Trelawney actually had access to some of those memories and feelings. That was because her simple, uncomplicated mind was open to them. It became a problem in Trelawney's case because this gave her an ability to subconsciously put the past and present together to understand the future. And Trelawney, being who _she _was, was prone towards impulsively blurting out what she knew or slipping into one of her states and letting it be known.

Maisie loved Trelawney very much, but she was glad that she was not like her in this regard. The fact that she and Trelawney had been able to communicate since she had been conceived and that Trelawney had been aware that she was waiting to descend had already caused enough problems. Still and all, life was not entirely about Trelawney and there were many good things to be said about it.

Maisie was enjoying life, as it presently was very much. Living in such a big family made things very interesting. It had been a quite bit of time since her last lifetime on earth and things had certainly changed. The house where she lived seemed enormously large, but the family was not wealthy, at least that was what she had discerned from the things that they said. However, compared with the way that she had lived during her last lifetime, over two hundred years ago, things were quite luxurious.

All of the sudden, fire was no longer quite so important. In fact, there was no fire burning anywhere in the house. There was a hearth in the living room, but she had never seen it lit. It was most peculiar. The center of the home, providing heat and cooking ability was quite clearly no longer the hearth. In fact, she had not quite figured out _where _the center of the house was.

One no longer saw lamps lit using fire or candles burning in all places. A click of a button and the lamps popped on right away, glowing from a funny little "bulb" inside. Of course there was no need for heat since it was so hot in this place. But Mummy did not need to light a fire in the stove whenever she wanted to cook. She simply turned a dial.

Even though it was so warm, it was no problem to keep things cool. There was a funny metal box (with a light inside) that kept things cool. No one had to go out to the well for water or even use a hand pump. Mummy simply turned a handle and the water came out, hot or cold. It seemed as if Mummy and Daddy were always clicking buttons and switches and turning a lot of handles and dials.

She would have thought that all of it was magic. But she knew that it couldn't be. No, these were machines that humans had invented to make their lives easier. And humans could most definitely _not _do magic. It was most terribly peculiar. Whoever had ever heard of a world run by dials and handles before?

These machines were all _very _noisy. The two machines that cleaned the laundry and the dishes both made a terrible racket. And then there was a big sucking machine that Mummy used on the floor to clean up the dust and mess. Sometimes when she had to dry her hair quickly, she had a small (and loud) device that she held in her hand that blew hot air at her.

And then there was a box that the children liked to watch that showed pictures. It could be very loud. (Until Daddy yelled and then it wasn't quite so loud.) And there was another box that played music. Voices talking came out of the box sometimes as well. And another funny machine that her brothers put black disks on that played music. And all of _these_ machines of course had switches and dials and handles to turn. Maisie had to wonder how they could remember what each of them did.

Most interesting of all was that most of these devices had to be connected to the wall so that they could work. They had ropes that could tie them into the wall. However they really weren't tied. There were little holes in the wall into which little spokes attached to the end of the ropes went. But she couldn't understand what the purpose was. It was almost (but definitely not) magic. Maisie knew that there was no magic in the walls of the house, but there _had to be _something in the walls that made all the machines and devices work.

There was another machine that was plugged into the wall that Mummy and Daddy talked into. In fact, it almost seemed as if they were talking to people who weren't there. But how could that be? And sometimes when a bell rang, Mummy would pick up the handle of the machine and say into it, "Everett residence," and then talk and talk. Maisie realized that during her time in heaven, many, many changes had happened on earth. But she had not seen those changes being made. It was not allowed.

She knew that when she learned to talk and lost her knowledge of her past lives, that she would grow up like any other child learning about the world into which she had been born. Then the dials, buttons, switches, and handles would all make sense. She had done it before. But then she returned to the other side and discovered that all of the changes were about something called "human progress."

There was a funny thing about this _human_ progress however. The things they built might become bigger and better, but people stayed the same. They loved and they fought. They were happy and sad. Children and parents both made mistakes, but they all loved each other in the end.

It would probably be better to call it _machine_ progress. After all, the humans had succeeded in actually improving those. But for the most part (from what she could see), the humans had not improved at all. When the humans themselves actually progressed, they would need to have a name for it. Therefore calling all of this human progress was really quite ridiculous.

And then there was the food. The food was very, very different from any that she had ever seen before. She had never known a place where one did not get milk from a cow. And they didn't even have a cow. One bought it in a bottle in the store.

And they had no chickens in the yard, just the rooster named Sebastian. Now that really made no sense at all. What good was having a rooster if you had no chickens? Of course here they didn't need chickens for eggs. They bought them in funny little boxes in the store.

And one never saw any animals killed for meat. The meat came in little wrapped packages and was stored in the cold metal box. And Mummy didn't bake bread everyday. That too came in packages. It was even already sliced. In fact during this lifetime, it sometimes seemed like _everything _came in a package.

During Maisie's last lifetime, much of the food they ate, they grew themselves out in the kitchen garden. There was no kitchen garden here. There was a yard with flowers and the trees where Mummy liked to work, but it grew no fruits or vegetables to eat. To be able to devote one's land simply to growing flowers was most wasteful. It was something that she had only heard of rich people doing before. And so the family had to buy _all _their fruits and vegetables.

In the part of the market where they sold the vegetables and fruits, it looked somewhat like the old market stalls. But there were so many new vegetables and fruits to be had! Maisie had never seen many of them before. There were also some that came in cans. And then there were others that were frozen solid. But when they were boiled they became normal again, well somewhat normal. They actually looked rather mushy.

The food store was called a "supermarket." This was a very good name for it. The store was so large and just went on _forever. _And there were other stores too, where people bought clothes. In fact everyone bought clothes. Nobody ever made them in this place, well, almost no one. As far as she could see, no one did any spinning or weaving. Of course in order to do that, one would need to have sheep to grow the wool. She never saw any sheep anywhere. They must be with the cows and chickens.

And it seemed as though making clothes was most unusual, even with a machine to do all the dull and difficult bits. And people had so _many _clothes. Why her sister Prudence had closets and drawers just stuffed with clothes. And she didn't even wear most of them. And her brothers and sister had _so_ many toys. She didn't see how they could play with all of them.

But most impressive of all were the books. There seemed to be stacks and stacks of books in the house. There were big books and little books, colorful books and black and white books, books filled with pictures and books without any pictures at all. And everyone could read. Why, she would never have imagined it! Even little Prudence could read!

She could still not believe everything she saw when she looked around. In fact, she had been alive for over three whole months and every day there was something new to see or she heard some sound coming from the most unlikely places. Sometimes one heard the birds and other sounds of nature, but not much. She knew that nature still must be out there in this world. There just didn't seem to be very much of it.

But the oddest, the _oddest_ thing of all was the smell of this time period. Where were all the smells? Of course all of the privies were indoors, but even so, there was no smell. One just had to pull a lever and _whoosh! _Everything was gone with a very loud noise. And the people didn't even smell like people. They took baths every day. They were just so _clean. _And the animals that lived in the house, like the dog Waldo, also had baths. But the most noticeably absent smell, was the smell of manure.

Maisie had looked and looked as hard as she could, but there were no vehicles drawn by horses or oxen. In fact, nothing drew these vehicles. They just went all on their own. It was more magic that really wasn't magic. Mummy would put a key in the dial and with a very loud noise. Then the vehicle would start and go. Maisie had to admit that traveling in these cars was very nice.

There were no bumps or ruts in the road, so the ride was very smooth. And the cars were so _large. _In fact their car was so large that it fit Mummy, Daddy, and all four children with room to spare. They did have a smell that came out of the back, but it certainly wasn't a manure smell. It was made by black smoke.

All in all, Maisie could see that many things had changed while she had been in heaven. Of course, it wasn't until she returned here that she even realized that she had been in heaven for such a long time. For you see, there is no time in heaven. There is no need for it.

People like Meg and Owen and Helen who had made their final journeys home were aware of time because they could see the earth and the people there. But those such as Maisie, who would eventually be coming back, weren't allowed to see the earth. There were _many _things that she must not know when she returned for her next lifetime. Therefore, there had been no time in heaven for Maisie.

Maisie loved her Mummy in this lifetime ever so much. Mummy brought her everywhere she went. In her previous lifetimes, her mothers had been too busy doing chores to go anywhere. Or if they were too rich to do chores, Maisie went to a wet nurse. Then Maisie had a wet nurse and never saw her mother.

Chores were another funny thing in this time. Her big sister Prudence complained when she had to do chores, but she hardly did _any _work at all. _And_ Prudence also got to go to school. And she knew how to read and write. And she didn't have to do _nearly _as many chores as Maisie had once done. And Maisie had never gotten to go to school.

And her brothers got to go to school, even Hal, who should have been too old. Why at one time they wouldn't have gone to school at all either They would have worked on the farm or somewhere else to help support the family. And if they were rich, they would have had tutors. In this lifetime, her Daddy worked, but he was a teacher at university. That was quite nice for him. But it was very odd that he did not have to wear his black gown to work. Like everyone else he wore lots of funny clothes. And he had lots and lots of clothes too.

When she could, she would ask Trelawney about all of this. However, even though there were many things that Trelawney could know that others couldn't, she did not always know about this. She also found some of these things confusing and _she _had been born in this time period. And poor Trelawney was so sad sometimes. Yes, poor, poor Trelawney was very sad these days indeed. But it was a secret from everyone else. Only Maisie knew how truly sad her darling Auntie was.

Poor Trelawney could not understand what had happened to her dear friend Topher. She had talked to her dolls, Mimsy, Tansy, and Daisy all about it, but they could not help. They only had the words that were hers, and she did not have the words to describe it. And so she could not understand why she felt so sad about the way that he had changed. Maisie desperately wanted to comfort her. She knew why poor Topher had changed. But she couldn't tell Trelawney. It was most certainly not allowed.

It was knowledge that she had gained from previous lifetimes and her time in heaven. Or so she thought. She knew that she knew it, but she didn't always really know how. She was a more powerful child of light than either Topher or Trelawney. Part of her work, when she was old enough, was to make sure they came together.

They _must _come together. Trelawney had been born for Topher, and Topher for Trelawney. It was not the first time that their souls had occupied the same time and place, but it would be the last. It was their last chance. It was quite important that _this time _they come together and therefore she bore a heavy responsibility.

Maisie had always known that Topher was a child of light and that he was meant for Trelawney. But until recently, no one else did. Maisie thought that he himself probably knew, but he didn't know that he knew. Or if he knew then he didn't know how he knew. It was such a muddle.

And because he did not understand who he was, he couldn't do anything about it. None of this had been revealed yet. Maisie wished that she could see what the outcome was, but it was not allowed. Instead she had to let poor Trelawney suffer and it was really entirely Mummy's fault, but even she didn't know it.

Mummy had not known until a few days ago that Topher was a child of light. The Angel had told her. But he couldn't tell her anything else because even he didn't know. She did not know that Trelawney and Topher had much important work to do in the world. She did not know that they could only do it together. She only knew what she knew and she knew that those such as Trelawney were not betrothed. And it did not matter whether it was to a child of light or not, or so she thought. Mummy knew that Trelawney had been given to her by her own Mum to raise.

She did not know that Trelawney did not have to live with her forever. But that was because Meg had not been able to tell her. She had run out of time. It was something that Meg had deeply regretted. She and Owen had been quite bereft that they had not had the time tell Mummy that once she had _raised _Trelawney, perhaps she could live apart from her. She would still need to be close, but they didn't have to live in the same house. They knew that it could ultimately create great unhappiness for both their lovely daughters. Yes, this was truly a muddle of the highest order.

But Maisie had been sent from heaven to help them. It was only a part of her important work, but it was the very first part. She would only be a child, but she knew that she could do it. She was very clever and very crafty. She could make things happen, but no one would know it was her. Of course all of them could do it. Mummy did it all the time, and so did Sylvia. Emmeline could have, but she never bothered to. That was why she had many more lives to live.

The matter of Topher and Trelawney was an extremely sticky one. For many lifetimes, the dark forces had worked to keep the souls of Trelawney and Topher apart. Now in this lifetime, Trelawney and Topher had actually been brought together in the same place at the same time so that they _knew _each other. And of course the instant that they met, they knew it. But they hadn't known that they knew. And they only knew now because of the night when Maisie was born and Topher was revealed as a true child of light.

For only a true child of light would have had the strength of character and goodness to try to save a soul as thoroughly evil as Cholmondeley's had been. To offer forgiveness to one who had committed such a very great offense was a most superlative action indeed. Especially when the innocent party to this harm was one whom you loved above all others, _even if _you didn't know it yet.

The forces of light had won that round and the forces of dark had lost. And this sweet moment of victory for good had occurred at almost the very minute of her own entrance to the world. Yet it really shouldn't have happened this way at all.

Who knew what would have happened if Trelawney had not come to California and then all if the other lovely coincidences that brought her together with Topher had not happened? Such kismet was very nearly unbelievable. Since this was most definitely Trelawney's last journey, why . . . They might never have met at all! It was really quite astounding come to think of it. The dark forces would have won completely.

But Topher and Trelawney were really such an odd pair. He was so brilliantly scientific and logical while she was so wonderfully musical and a little fey. She was made of fairy dust, while he of cells and atoms. She was so ethereal, he so down to earth. They were drawn together in a very powerful, yet very pure, way.

They knew it, but they didn't understand it. Trelawney was still a little girl. She thought of Topher as her perfect hero. Topher loved Trelawney as his little golden angel. He too thought that she was perfect. Topher could never love any other woman in _that_ way. Trelawney could never love any other man in any way at all. Their perfection might only be in each other's eyes, but that was all that really mattered anyway.

This much was certain. Together, they were a perfect Jungian syzygy, two incomplete halves that only felt complete when joined with the other. But they didn't know it. They only knew the very deep longing within each of their souls for the other. Mummy and Daddy had been the same. They had not known it either. The same odd twist of fate that brought Trelawney to America had brought Mummy and Daddy together. In fact, it was _really _Trelawney who had brought them together. And that was because of all of their past lives.

Grammy had known about Mummy and Daddy's syzygy. She was quite smart about these things. But in this case, she missed it. Everyone was so busy thinking about why Topher and Trelawney must be apart, that they didn't even realize that they should be together. It was a very great pity that Maisie could not tell them, but it was not allowed. Things could never be too easy for humans, especially the children of light.

Thus Maisie must never tell Trelawney this. The Angel knew some of the things that she had already let slip to her and he was most cross because of it. Trelawney was too young now to know of their fated love anyway. And when Trelawney was old enough to know, then Maisie would no longer know. The knowledge would have slipped from her consciousness as the power of speech burst forth. Trelawney and Topher must find each other in the right time and place, because that was how these things worked for the children of light.

Yet, one thing that Maisie had never understood completely was why children of light had to suffer so much. They all did. Mummy had suffered as well. She had found her perfect other half, but had thought that they could never be together. That was why Trelawney had to come here. She had set Mummy free, so that she could marry Daddy and there could be a Maisie. And if there was a Maisie, there could be a Trelawney and Topher, and then . . . But she dare not even think about that. If she let that slip, the Angel would be more than cross with her. He would be angry.

There were those who believed that it was necessary for the children of light to suffer so that they would understand the pain and suffering of those they came to help. Their power would be greater if they felt empathy rather more than sympathy. It also kept them humble. They might be children of light, but they were not golden children to whom much was given and nothing expected.

Of course the children of light were given many things, just not the kinds of things that most people would have expected. Children of light never had such earthly things as money or fame. It wouldn't have helped them in their work anyway. For, to who much is given, much is expected, as Luke 12:48 says. And this is how it was. The gifts that one was given quite naturally determined the expectations of them.

The children of light who were born of their race were given a very high degree of prescience and second sight. They could discern thoughts and motives in others. They were highly talented in individual areas, Mummy with children, Trelawney in music, and Topher in maths. Topher was not of their race, so he did not quite have all the gifts that they did. And Maisie was still too young to have demonstrated her _savant _quality.

However, the children of light were still human and thus cursed with the imperfections that curse all humans. Her dear Trelawney was a little fey and also very impulsive. Mummy never took herself into account and that created difficulties for her. And Topher was so smart that he thought that he knew everything. This arrogance made him blind sometimes.

Therefore, nobody ever said that it would be easy to be a child of light. And to a large extent, Topher, well, in many ways had had it easy until now. He was born to loving parents in a solid Christian home. His temperament, like that of all children of light, was kind and generous and mild-mannered. He was loving and caring, in the example of his parents. He was talented, not only in science and technology, but music as well.

His talents had been recognized and nurtured over the years. He had been praised and encouraged. He had even won awards. He had been fortunate to come into contact with others who would guide him through the difficult bits of life. He had been drawn to Trelawney from the moment he had met her, as she had been to him.

To the outsider, it would seem that two loving hearts had simply found each other. But Maisie knew it was more to it than just a fairytale come to life. There were archetypal elements, all part and parcel of the universal consciousness, in play. That made the difference.

Trelawney was the fair maiden, weak and fragile and greatly in need of a knight in shining armor. In his youthful enthusiasm, Topher had embraced that role, convincing himself that he was merely playing a part in a little girl's game. But a few months ago, the game was suddenly no longer a game. Using his wits and reckless courage, he had saved her Daddy, her Grampie, and Butch from a potentially disastrous situation.

Next he had come face to face with the great evil, at that time embodied first by Aunt Henrietta and then by the unicorn. He had stood up to this great evil and faced it down, attempting to claim another soul for God. Together, he and Trelawney had defeated the dark forces that threatened their family, not once but twice. But thus far, neither they nor anyone else in this world knew of it. And they probably never would.

And because no one could know it, when Topher quite naturally wished to confirm his connection with his other half, he had been slapped down, first by Pastor Jason and then by Mummy. Pastor Jason had an inkling of it. But Mummy had none. And suddenly, the knight in shining armor was wounded and did not know where to go or what to do. And thus the evil enchantress (another tool of the darkness) had pounced.

For if Trelawney was his lovely, perfect positive transformative aspect, this singer Jeannie was his negative transformative. Like the Sirens of old, she sang her song for the young hero and he was now nearly dashed upon the rocks as he pursued it.

And he had no faithful companions to lash him to the mast of the ship. In fact, _his _companions encouraged him to swim to her. Topher had conquered the old witch to save dear Trelawney, only to fall under the spell of the young witch. There must be someone who could free him from her spell. But who?

Maisie believed that perhaps even Topher was punishing himself because he thought that now he was no longer worthy of Trelawney. Maisie had seen it, oh, so many times before. The gallant knight loses the fair maiden and then in his anguish ends up in the clutches of the wicked enchantress. If only she could explain this to Trelawney! Still, it was not allowed. Although Topher would never understand, certainly Trelawney should be able to understand. But what would she do, even if she did know?

Presently, Trelawney could not understand the full importance of Topher to her future. It had not been revealed and it was not the right time for it to be revealed. Topher only scarcely understood the importance of Trelawney in his life. That too had not been fully revealed. They only felt an attraction that neither could understand. Fate could be so cruel sometimes!

They were both too young. It was very sad. Trelawney suffered from the absence of her hero. And Topher suffered from the absence of his muse, his little golden angel who inspired him to goodness and greatness. It was a cruel trick of fate and had weakened them both. Maisie wanted desperately to help.

The little butterfly no longer happily flitted about. If they were not careful, she would weave herself a little cocoon in which to hide herself through this winter of her life. And the knight in shining armor had lost his high ideals and fallen prey to the cheap, easy folly, and vanity of the world. Why he had put _money _of all things above all else. While she retreated into her faith, he retreated from it. But all was not lost.

In order that they might be prepared to fulfill their destinies, they must first each find the strength within themselves to press forward. They must be joined strength to strength, not weakness to weakness. Before becoming the pair that they were destined to be, they must become powerful individuals. But the road before them was not easy. If either one should fall, it would mean disaster for the other.

So as she passed her days in infanthood, young Maisie mused. She mused while she was able to. With the first word she spoke, this wisdom would be silenced in her mind forever. And those that she loved best would suffer, even as the others in her life lived happily. They had passed through their own dark shadows into the light.

Mummy and Daddy no longer had to be afraid that the unicorn would return. Hal and Prudence were happy with their lives. Even grumpy Butch was happy in his way. She knew that Grammy and Grampie had many good things coming their way. Maisie had brought this light into all of their lives. And someday, she would bring the same light to Trelawney.

But for now, she was contemplating a most important milestone in her babyhood. Upon whom would she bestow her first smile? Should it be Mummy? Of course she was most special, but Maisie had already decided that her first word would be "Mummy." And she couldn't give Mummy _two _important firsts now, could she?

Should it be Daddy? But she had also decided that he would be the first one that she would walk to. Then there were all the obvious ones, her brothers and sister and Trelawney and Grammy and Grampie. But time was growing short. She must choose soon. And she knew that she must choose correctly.

She did not know how she knew, but she knew that this first smile was most important. But now it was not yet time to smile. It was time to be baptized and welcomed into God's family in this world. Ever so many people were coming together for the occasion from both sides of her family. Even if she couldn't smile, it promised to be most amusing.

_To be continued . . ._


	3. Trelawney's Promise

**Trelawney's Promise**

_When Trelawney sees her Auntie Anna, the memories of her Mum well up and with them her tears. But Auntie Anna understands her better than she thinks that she will._

Trelawney couldn't wait for her family to arrive from England. She needed to see all of them, but some more than others. She needed to see Sylvia because she would understand her feelings about Topher. She needed to see Liam because he might know what dreadful thing had happened to Topher on the night of Maisie's birth that had caused him to turn away from her. And she needed to see Uncle David to ask, no beg, him to allow her to return to her Phoebe.

She was glad that Auntie Anna was coming. She would understand everything. She knew that with her help that Uncle David would surely allow her to go home. Much as she loved her Mama Kate, this had never been home for her. She might have her own room and a lovely piano to play, but it was not home. She knew that Elspeth liked it here because she really did not want to share the house with another dog, but she would loyally go wherever Trelawney would be most happy.

Once that was settled, then she could bring her concerns about Topher to her two trusted cousins. She reflected on her conversation with Pastor Jason as she waited for the car to arrive with her relatives. She knew that he could be right about Topher. And she knew that it was dangerous for him to have any feelings at all for her. But she knew that they weren't _those _feelings. She had known those feelings when a man had had them for her before. And she knew that she would recognize them again.

They were wicked and bad and evil. And that man had known how to disguise them under his pretense of being a kindly sort of an uncle. He had made her feel special. She was to be his dear little girl, even more dear to him than Phoebe, despite the fact that she was to be his wife. Phoebe was lovely and beautiful but she was not his little Trel. And then it had all gone wrong. But Topher was not like that at all.

If Pastor Jason was right, then he was keeping her safe. Topher was keeping his distance from her so that no one would suspect him of all the evil and horrible things that had happened to her before. They could not understand. He was pretending to love the other girl, the beautiful singer, so that he could earn his money for school. She hoped so anyway. Besides, maybe he had grown tired of mowing lawns. It must be much more fun to play in a band.

She asked Tessa about it and she agreed with Pastor Jason. Of course Tessa always agreed with Pastor Jason. Sometimes it felt like Tessa always agreed with the adults. She would have asked Elspeth, but then she would tell Waldo (she was such a little tattletale) and he (he was almost as big of a tattletale as she was) would tell Phoebe. Something told her that Phoebe wouldn't like it a bit.

She understood Phoebe better now that Maisie had told her that many, many lifetimes ago Phoebe and the Professor had been lovers. Trelawney had been their child, but their love had turned out to be quite sad. It was at the time of the Black Death. Phoebe and the Professor had both worked in a very rich household but when Phoebe had turned up pregnant she had been sacked. The Professor left his own job to care for her.

They were very poor but happy. Then when the Black Death had come to their village, when Trelawney was still a little girl, they had died. A kindly couple had taken her in, but it had never been the same for her again. Maisie knew very well that she should not have told Trelawney this but she had done so when she had told her that she could never understand the powerful ache inside when she saw Phoebe and the Professor together.

So Maisie had told her and now her life made sense. It made her feel brave enough to ask Uncle David to send her back to Phoebe. It might not make her feel entirely happy, but perhaps she would feel better. She understood why the Professor had always felt so fatherly towards her and Phoebe so motherly.

It made sense that the Professor had wanted to adopt her all those months ago. She wished that she had known that then because she would not have been such a brat about it. She still would not have wanted him to adopt her, but she would have declined much more nicely. Now, as she restlessly moved around the house, she fretted.

She wondered, no it was more like she _worried,_ about her dollhouse. The Professor's house was large, but she could think of no place for Mimsy and Tansy and Daisy to live. Prudence's room was too small for two such dollhouses. And she would not leave it behind. She had left it behind when she had come to California from England and had been without it for an entire year. That had been far too long. She needed the house as a place of refuge. It was the only place in this world where anything made any sense at all.

But Auntie Anna knew that, and so did Emmeline and Sylvia. They would certainly help her. And Sylvia was ever so good at turning things around right. Just look at what she had done for Mike and Sarah. Maybe Sylvia could help fix things with Topher as well. Emmeline would probably tease her if she knew. But dear Sylvia wouldn't. She would say "there, there" and make her feel better. And she would keep her secret. Everybody thought that she had a crush on him, but they were wrong. She loved him.

Yes, Trelawney truly loved Topher. She knew in her heart of hearts that he was meant for her and she for him. It was one of those things that she knew but didn't know how she knew. If Topher really did love the singer and they got married, she simply didn't know what she would do. What kind of cruel trick of fate it would be to love a man who was married to someone else. It was unthinkable. Even so, she knew that it had happened before.

Then, she heard the commotion at the front door and knew that the uncles and her aunt were here. The others were going straight off to the hotel. She quickly ran down the steps with Elspeth at her heels. And then she saw her Auntie Anna. It had been almost two years since she had seen her and in that time, she had forgotten how much she looked like Mum. Without thinking, she hurled herself into her arms and began to cry.

"There, there, lovey," she said. "It's just your old Auntie Anna coming for a little visit. There's no need to make all this fuss."

But Trelawney couldn't answer her. She could only cling. It was lucky that Auntie knew what she was thinking and held her closer. She could feel her stroking her hair and kissing her head, just like Mum used to do. The loving gestures calmed her down. She felt safe. Elspeth was whining a little bit at their feet and Auntie bent over to pet her.

"Now Elspeth, don't you start as well!" she chided her. "The way that you two are acting, you would think that you wanted me to pack you both up and bring you home!"

Trelawney didn't answer that. She had actually not been thinking that at all, but now that the thought was in her head she wondered if she perhaps _could _escape. Auntie's arms tightened around her, reminding her that this was her home now. Looking down at her, Auntie brushed her hair back out of her face and whispered.

"We'll talk later, little one. Your dear Mum would never forgive me if I left you full of sadness like this."

Trelawney nodded and snuggled closer. She could sense that Mama Kate was a bit unnerved by her show of affection for her dear Auntie, but she clearly did not remember that before there was a Mama Kate in her life, there was an Auntie Anna. And Auntie Anna looked more than a bit like her Mum. But mostly, Auntie Anna knew Trelawney as well as anyone could. She was a Figalilly and the Figalillys always knew each other best.

"So," said Uncle David. "Aren't you going to give a kiss to me and your Uncle Charlie, then? Or don't the uncles count for anything anymore?"

"I'm sorry," she replied anxiously. "I forgot myself."

Dutifully, she greeted each and then returned to Auntie.

"Well, David," said Uncle Charlie. "We may have to let up on the little one for a bit. After all, she hasn't seen her Auntie in so long."

"Ever so long," echoed Trelawney, grateful that Uncle Charlie understood.

But then she saw that her two uncles were looking at each other with eyes filled with concern. And they were both thinking the same thing. Why was their little Trelawney Rose so sad? But she had no words to tell them. There were only feelings. She felt sad and lonely.

She wanted her Mum and her Papa. And she wanted to be with her Phoebe. Now Mama Kate and Mr. Everett were looking troubled. They knew that something was the matter but unless Trelawney could tell them with words, they wouldn't have a clue. Uncle David looked at her. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Auntie Anna must have realized that Trelawney slipping away. She sometimes did that. And it would never do for Trelawney to wander off, even if it was only in her mind, before such an important event as the christening.

"You know," she said gently. "I believe that our little one is a bit overwhelmed. Perhaps you and I should have our little chat now. David, Charlie, I know that you can tell it better than we can."

Uncle David looked at her kindly. Of course he knew what to say.

"Rob, Catherine, I think that our little one has just had a bit of a shock," he said. "You see Annabel here looks very much like her own mother. Those that see her every day wouldn't see it so much, but our Trelawney Rose just did."

"Our Phoebe will too most likely," agreed Uncle Charlie. "It may set them both grieving again. But we'll tend to them and so will you. It's a happy event that we're here for, but you all have to remember that the other grandparents are missing and, yes, still very much missed. But Trelawney Rose, never you mind. Cry your tears now. Then the happy day will truly be happy for you all."

"Yes, sir," she replied obediently, sniffling a little.

"I'm sorry, dear," said Mama Kate. "I've been so busy with all of the arrangements that I had forgotten this important fact. Will you forgive me?"

"Yes, Mama Kate," she said solemnly. "May I please go to my room now with my Auntie Anna?"

"Yes, of course, dear," she replied.

Without looking back, Trelawney took her Auntie by the hand and led her up to her room. Auntie sat down in the rocking chair and Trelawney sat on the floor beside her and buried her head in her lap. Then she began to sob as if her heart would break. In fact she thought that it was breaking. She could feel Auntie holding her tight and stroking her hair, but she didn't tell her to stop. Trelawney knew that she wanted her to cry until there were no tears left.

Eventually, the flood subsided and Trelawney simply sat on the floor and rested her head against her.

"Does that feel a bit better now, lovey?" asked Auntie kindly.

"A bit," she replied quietly. "I am not sure that all the tears are gone."

"I know, lovey, I know," she said. "Your Mum was more than my sister. She was my best friend in the whole world. In some ways she was even closer to me than your Uncle David. I've wept many tears myself at her loss. And when I look at your sweet little face, I can see her as she looked when she was a girl of your age."

"I see her when I look at you too," said Trelawney shyly.

"Well, lovey, I have the look of her, but you are truly the living image," she said. "It's a good thing that we left old Grandfather James at home or we'd have that whole tug of war starting all over again. But you can't come home now. You must be with your Phoebe. Your Mum would never forgive me if we broke you two up."

"Yes, Auntie," she replied. "Will Uncle David permit me to go back home now?"

"That's his plan," she nodded. "It was meant to be a lovely surprise for you both, to bring you home for Christmas. But you need to know now. It will help you heal a bit."

"Heal?" she asked, puzzled.

"Yes, lovey, heal," she said. "When you saw me it was like the wound of her loss was all ripped open again. That's why you wept. But now it will heal again. You'll see."

"Will it open up again?" she asked.

"It may," she replied wisely. "There's really no way of telling. Sometimes it's something you see or hear or smell that brings back the one that's lost. Sometimes, when we're already feeling sad, it makes the loss feel worse. Now I know you well, lovey. I know you better than anyone, even your Phoebe. Just now you were crying for more than just your Mummy and Papa, weren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," she replied, trying to push the thoughts of Topher out of her mind.

Auntie Anna looked at her curiously.

"I can see it's a lad that's broken your heart, little lovey," she said softly. "Now why don't you tell your Auntie all about it? You may be nothing more than a little slip of a girl, but little girls can still fall in love. It's always the first one that's the hardest."

"What do you mean the first one?" she asked slowly.

"Oh, my, then. Have you already forgotten that I have three daughters?" she answered with a little smile. "I've seen these first little crushes before. They disappoint you, but then you get over it and move on. There's plenty more fish out in the sea as they say."

"But I am not fishing," she replied. "This is not just any boy."

Auntie Anna grasped her chin in her hand and looked down into her eyes. It happened so quickly that Trelawney's mind was wide open. She gazed back into her eyes with longing and regret. Auntie Anna's expression softened. She understood better than Trelawney had thought that she might.

"I see it in your heart now, little one," she said carefully. "It's the same love that I saw in my dear Meg's heart for her Owen. It is a rare and true feeling. But it is also for an outsider. I can't change any of it. All I can say is that whoever he is, he better be worthy."

"He is," she assured her. "But he doesn't see me."

"No, he doesn't," she agreed. "But that doesn't mean that someday he won't. He's older then, isn't he? Your Papa was older than your Mum you know."

"I know," she nodded. "But I am still a little girl. He is a man."

"Well, I have a secret for you," she answered. "Your Mum loved your Papa from the time she was a little girl. In fact there was a time when it was like as it is for you now. She was just a little girl and he was a man. But neither of them had any control over their destinies. It was luck that the betrothal happened. And it didn't happen because they loved each other. It happened because the Figalillys and Trelawneys wanted the marriage. And when she was old enough, they married."

"But no one would ever betroth me to an outsider," said Trelawney.

"Lovey," said Auntie patiently. "No one is ever going to betroth you to anyone at all. Outsider or no, those such as you are not betrothed. And it's not only because being a little fey as you are, no man could want you for a wife. No, little Trelawney, there is no man who is worthy of your goodness and kindness. Your Phoebe will take good care of you, lovey. You'll see."

Trelawney looked at her but didn't answer. She obviously didn't know Topher and all of the horrible things that he had saved them from. Why, he was so good that he even tried to save Cholmondeley! Cousin Liam must not have told them. But she didn't want to talk anymore. And she didn't want to go back downstairs. Instead, she rested her head back in Auntie's lap and fell asleep. It had been a very long day.

When she woke up the next morning, she felt much better. Someone had put her to bed and set Tessa beside her. She looked down at the foot of the bed and noticed that Elspeth was looking at her. Trust Elspeth to be on guard! It was as if a storm passed and now it was a fresh new morning. After she dressed in fresh clothes, she skipped downstairs where all the adults were eating and gave them each a big hug and a kiss.

"I'm sorry for my mood last night," she said. "I didn't mean to be a bother."

"That's okay, dear," answered Mama Kate. "As long as you are happy now."

"Oh, yes indeed," she said. "I can't wait to see all my lovely cousins again."

"Yes," she said. "Well, they are all coming over to Hal and Phoebe's a little later. We'll be going down shortly so that the others can meet Maisie."

"Goody," she said as she dug into a bowl of cereal.

After breakfast, Auntie Anna pulled her aside.

"I am glad that you are looking so much better, lovey," she said.

"Oh, I am much better," she replied. "You were just lovely to me last night. I can't imagine what came over me."

Auntie Anna looked at her seriously.

"I know exactly what came over you. And you must promise me something."

"Yes, Auntie?" she asked.

"You must not do or say anything impulsive," she said. "You must promise me that you will behave _exactly_ as you have been brought up. If you mind your elders, then no heartache can come to you."

"Yes, Auntie," she replied obediently. "I promise that I will be a good girl and mind my elders, just as I have been brought up to."

"That's good, lovey," she said. "Now why don't you collect Elspeth and we will all go down to Phoebe's."

As Trelawney skipped off to find Elspeth, she didn't see the worried look on her Auntie's face. But she was thinking about her promise and realized that it would be quite easy to keep. She knew in her heart that her Topher, if he ever came to her, would never do anything that would go against their culture. He was the one for her and they would be together. She didn't know how she knew it. She just knew it.

And of course she had not promised not to do anything impulsive. That was certainly one promise that she could never keep. In fact, she wouldn't be Trelawney if she weren't impulsive. Even Auntie knew that. So Auntie had accepted her muddled promise, just as she had made it, no more, no less. And Trelawney tried to put the thoughts of Topher out of her head. But of course she could never do that completely. Topher was not only in her head. He was in her heart.

_To be continued . . . _


	4. The Figalillys Descend

**The Figalillys Descend**

_What would you do if a balloon set down in your backyard with a couple of your wife's crazy relatives? And before you knew it, your house was filled with them? This is what Professor Hal Everett did._

When Hal Everett woke up the day before the Christening, it was to the sound of feet running down the hall and the baby crying because they had woken her up. Grumbling, he realized that Phoebe was up and out of bed, so the only thing that he could do was get up and get Maisie from the cradle. As he lifted her out, he realized that before they knew it, she would be too big for it and would have to be moved to the crib in the nursery.

As he took her out, Maisie looked up at him reproachfully.

"Sorry, Maisie," he said. "But if you're hungry then we'll have to go find Mummy. The one thing that I cannot do for you is feed you."

She looked back at him with her big blue eyes and cooed at him in agreement. Slinging her over his shoulder he went downstairs to find the house empty and the backyard full. Aunts Agatha and Justine had made their grand entrance. Not caring that he was still in his nightclothes, he went out to greet them. But they weren't the least bit interested in him.

"Let's see her," said Aunt Justine in her authoritative voice. "Let's have a look at Owen's first little grandbaby."

"Why do you say she's the first?" asked Prudence innocently.

"Oh, there will be more," said Aunt Agatha suggestively. "Won't there be, Professor?"

"Naturally," he replied as he walked over with the baby.

He held Maisie up to pass her over and Phoebe took her to show her to the aunts.

"A perfect Figalilly child, if I've ever seen one," Aunt Justine declared. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, even the little Figalilly nose."

"Everyone says that she looks just like Trelawney," objected Prudence. "And that Trelawney looks just like her Mum did. But her Mum wasn't really a Figalilly."

"Don't be impertinent, child," scolded the older woman. "She married a Figalilly and therefore she was a Figalilly. And I'll have no arguments on the subject."

"But . . ."

"Cool it, Pru," said her brother Hal quickly. "Don't forget to mind your elders."

"Ah, yes, young Harold," she said now turning her attention to the boy. "You always were the smart one of the bunch. Lots of common sense as well."

"Yeah, right," said Butch rolling his eyes.

Aunt Justine looked at him sharply.

"You, young man, appear to have done some backsliding in terms of your manners," she said. "We will have to do something about that, won't we?"

To everyone's amazement, Butch turned his back on her and walked away. Hal could see that Phoebe was mortified at his behavior. Instinctively he put his arm around her. Hal and Prudence stared. Even Maisie gave a little squawk of displeasure. Aunt Agatha shook her head.

"That young man needs a sit down," she said sternly. "And if he's not careful, then he's going to get one."

Everyone looked at her in surprise. Aunt Agatha was not one who was given to strict discipline.

"Or I could give him a good clobber," suggested young Hal helpfully. "Sometimes that can be even more effective."

"Hal . . ." he warned him.

"No, Harold," said Aunt Justine to his son. "Violence is not the answer. Young Bentley needs to be straightened out. If none of you are willing to do it, then Agatha and I will take him in hand."

Hal was about to argue that he and Phoebe were perfectly capable of managing the children on their own, but then thought better of it. It could be that a little, good old-fashioned English discipline was exactly what he needed. It might do old Butchie-boy a bit of good to be at the business end of Aunt Justine's tongue. The silence was interrupted by Maisie, who began to whine and tug at Phoebe's blouse.

"There, there, Maisie darling," she said walking back into the house. "Mummy hasn't forgotten you."

"Like she ever could," said Prudence, rolling her eyes. "Maisie always comes first."

"Well give your parents some time, dear," said Aunt Agatha soothingly. "Then Maisie will have to yield her position to another."

"Agatha, please," said Aunt Justine in exasperation. "Must you constantly refer to _that _in front of the children?"

"Refer to what?" asked Prudence, looking very bewildered.

Before Aunt Agatha could say another word, Hal announced that Maisie wasn't the only one who was hungry and that they should all get some breakfast before the others came.

"Oh, yes indeed," said Aunt Justine eagerly. "I believe that my brother David and his wife and Charles Trelawney will be here shortly."

"I won't even ask how you know that," replied Hal, shaking his head. "And the younger folks will be over after lunch.'

"Why Phoebe told us of course," said Aunt Agatha innocently. "How else would we have known?"

"How else would you . . ." he began to mutter, as he returned to the house.

Behind him, he could hear the two old women falling into gales of laughter, at his expense no less. He suspected that no matter how long he was married to Phoebe, the Figalillys would still view him as an outsider. Not that his family was any better. He knew that Bob and Ben had been looking forward to seeing Emmeline and Sylvia again. It was probably the reason why Bob had offered to put them all up in the hotel together.

When he got into the kitchen, he discovered that the breakfast table was at something of an armed standoff with Hal and Prudence sitting side by side on one side of the table and Butch by himself on the other. This was never going to do. Phoebe was anxious enough about all of her relatives coming without Butch adding to the tension. He sat down and pulled his chair next to Butch's. Butch turned his back on him and leaned on his elbow on the table.

"I think that it is time that we called a truce for the duration," he said.

"What duration?" asked Prudence.

"While the relatives are all here," explained his son Hal. "It's fine by me, but you have to talk to Bentley over there."

"Just shut up, Harold," said Butch testily. "Why do you have to be such a goody-goody?"

"It is hardly being a 'goody-goody,'" replied Hal. "To ask for a little civility out of you children. And I mean all you children."

"I'm always civil," said Prudence. "I'm even nice to everybody."

Butch rolled his eyes.

_"That _is exactly what I am talking about," said Hal. "I want you all to watch your tone of voice and avoid all eye-rolling and all other disrespectful forms of non-verbal communication."

"Why do you always have to talk like such a professor?" commented Butch to the air.

"Because I _am _a professor," he replied. "And I am doing my best to set a good example for you all."

"Cut the crap, Dad," said Butch insolently. "You don't mean you all, you mean me all."

"That will be enough, young man," said Phoebe from the doorway. "You will go to your room and remain there until you are ready to join the family as a respectful member."

Maisie seemed to cluck and squawk in agreement. Suddenly Butch turned to her.

"Just what I need," he said in disgust. "Another bratty little sister to put her two cents in every time I get in trouble."

Maisie looked surprised and then started to cry. Rolling his eyes, Butch left the room before anyone could say anything else to him. Hal was looking at Maisie in curiosity.

"Mom," he said. "Do you think that Maisie just understood what he said?"

Phoebe looked uncomfortable.

"No," she said. "I think that his tone of voice upset her."

"Why does Butch always have to be so mean to everyone?" asked Prudence.

"I don't know," Hal admitted. "I think that he may be going through some growing pains."

"What are growing pains?" she asked.

"Remember when you were jealous because you weren't the baby of the family anymore?" asked her brother. "For a while you were very cranky. Then you figured out that it was really cool to be the big sister. That was growing pains."

"Oh," said Prudence thoughtfully. "But I still don't get why Butch is so nasty."

"I wouldn't necessarily say nasty," interjected Phoebe.

"I would, Mom," said Hal. "I would say that he is being downright obnoxious."

"And very rude and disrespectful," added Prudence.

"Before this turns into a third person insult competition," said Hal raising the volume of his voice. "Let's put a stop to it now."

Prudence giggled.

"Butch is right about one thing," she said.

"And what is that?"

"You do sound like a professor when you yell at us sometimes," she answered mischievously.

"I was not yelling," he said with an edge in his voice. Then he looked around.

They were all trying very hard not to laugh at him. Except for Maisie, who was staring at him solemnly as she always did.

"I guess I do sound like a professor sometimes," he admitted. "But I was not yelling. I was . . . er, talking loudly."

"Whatever you say, Dad," said Hal as they all started laughing.

It would have been a great start to what promised to be a happy day. The only dark cloud on the horizon was his son Butch and his bad attitude. He could understand how he was mad at him for ignoring him and not appreciating him in the past. He was even willing to admit that he had favored Hal on more than one occasion. But this grudge had been going on for almost three months now and Butch seemed no closer to letting them resolve it and move on than before. In fact, he seemed to be getting worse.

Something was clearly feeding his discontent, but he had given up trying to figure it out. He could see that it was bothering Phoebe. He knew that she was afraid that it would affect Uncle David's decision about letting Trelawney come home to them. But he also thought that she was forgetting something. Uncle David had three sons of his own and from what he understood two of them had certainly given him a run for his money. He personally thought that her uncle would probably understand the situation better than they did.

After breakfast, Phoebe marshaled all the children including Butch and himself into a cleanup crew. Despite the fact that she had scrubbed the house from top to bottom the day before, the clutter had begun to accumulate again. Walking around with Maisie on her hip, occasionally adding her own little "commentary," she went from room to room giving orders and inspecting everything that they claimed was finished.

"Gee, Dad," said Hal. "It really does look like the old Mom is back."

"What do you mean, son?" he asked.

"Well," he said. "I mean, it's been a long time since she's been so bossy and stuff. I kind of like it."

"Me too," he answered. "But don't say it too loudly or you'll find yourself doing even more chores."

"Oh, yeah," he replied with a nod. "When do you think that Uncle David will tell Trelawney that she can come home?"

"It can't be soon enough for me," he replied. "Or her, I think. There's got to be something that will get her out of her doldrums. I just don't know what has gotten into her."

"I think I do," whispered Hal.

"Oh, and what might that be?" he asked curiously.

"I think that she has a crush on Topher and is upset because he has a new girlfriend," he said.

"Well," he replied. "I would say that I agree. I would also say that that is just about the worst kept secret in town right now."

"You're probably right," said Hal. "But I still feel bad for her. Is there anything that we can do?"

"I don't think so," he answered. "In fact, I don't know much about these things, but it would probably be best if we stayed out of it."

Hal nodded.

"That's what Sharon said," he replied.

"Well, since Sharon's a girl," he said. "I am sure that she knows better than either of us."

Hal did have to get a kick out of his son, discussing little Trelawney with his girlfriend and then freely admitting it. Of course, after two years, Trelawney was almost like another younger sister to him. More than one time, Hal had commented about how glad he was that Trelawney was happy at her new school.

Of course this was beneficial to Hal who would not have to worry about her at the high school. Then he heard the sound of footsteps coming through the front door. Yes, Phoebe was certainly back to her old self. The doorbell had not even rung and there she was opening it. He made his way from the kitchen to the front hallway.

"Oh, Hal, splendid," said Phoebe. "You know Uncle David and Uncle Charlie of course. May I introduce you to Auntie Anna?"

"I'm very pleased to meet you," said the older woman.

She definitely had the look of Trelawney about her. She had the same slim, but certainly more sturdy build, and her blonde hair was shot through with silver. She even had the same light blue eyes, however they sparkled with warmth and intelligence. But she quickly turned her attention to the baby. Phoebe handed her over.

"Now little Margaret Mary," she said. "Let's have a look at you. Yes, blonde hair, blue eyes, sweet little nose. Oh, what solemn expression you have. Well, that's definitely your own. Yes, I would definitely say so. This one is quite definitely like Trelawney. Have you pulled out the old pictures to check?"

"Yes, we have Auntie," laughed Phoebe. "And yes, the resemblance is amazing."

"Well, if she looks like Trelawney, then she'll look like our Meg as well," said Annabel. "Imagine that."

"I think that _you _look like Trelawney too," said Prudence.

"Oh dear!" said Phoebe. "Where are my manners? This is Prudence, Hal, and . . . Oh, where is Butch?"

"He took off as soon as you assigned the chores," said young Hal. "My guess is that he's gone over to his friend Sam's house."

"Two blocks over," said Hal. "Son, I hate to ask but . . ."

"Go ahead and ask, Dad," said Hal. "I'll see if I can round him up. But I won't make any promises."

"After what he said the aunts before," tattled Prudence. "Then you might not want to. Maybe he's hiding."

"That's a daring young fool," commented Uncle Charlie. "This is new for him, isn't it? I would have remembered such a one from my last visit if I had met him."

"I want to go see my aunties," interrupted Trelawney who had been silent up to this point. "I expect that we have to go to them if we want to catch up."

"I would expect that you are right," said Hal quickly and led them through the house.

"Thanks, little one," he said quietly to Trelawney. "You saved your sister from a bit of embarrassment."

"I know," she replied. "But if Butch is not careful, Aunt Justine will box his ears. She's only got but so much patience with cheek."

"And don't you know it," he said in return.

She gave him a glimmer of a smile and ran ahead. By the time they got out there, she was already leaning against Aunt Agatha who was clucking over her. No doubt, Aunt Agatha had ascertained the problem the minute she saw her and was offering comfort. Ignoring them, Aunt Justine had climbed out of the balloon and came forward to greet her brother.

"Now David," she said formally. "You are looking very well. And Annabel, dear, of course you had to grab the baby first. I'm teasing, love, don't look so bothered. And Charlie, how's the old goat doing?"

"I didn't know that you had a goat, Uncle Charlie," said Prudence.

They all laughed.

"I was referring to James Trelawney, dear child," she said.

"And if ever there was an old goat, it was him," affirmed Aunt Agatha. "Hello to you all, and how was _your _flight?"

"Very noisy," replied Aunt Annabel. "And bumpy."

"Well, love," said Aunt Justine. "Just say the word and we'll return you quietly home. It's been _ages _since we've been back to the village."

"Ages," agreed Aunt Agatha. "Tell me, is my old beau Roger still there?"

"Your old beau Roger is a grandfather himself," replied Uncle David with an impish grin. "Sixteen at last count, wasn't it, Annabel?"

"And two on the way," she nodded. "Oh, don't look so downcast, lovey. It really has been an age since you've been back. Time stands still for none of us. You wouldn't have wanted him pining away all these years now, would you?"

Hal thought that that was exactly what Aunt Agatha would have liked him to do. But she turned her attention back to Trelawney.

"Well dearie," she said. "You and me will have to have a good chat, then, won't we?"

"Yes, we will, Auntie," she replied seriously. "I just _knew _that _you _would understand."

Aunt Justine rolled her eyes.

"Well before you two go off and unburden your souls together," she said. "Let's get down to some important business. Now, Trelawney Rose, how are you doing at your new school?"

"Doesn't waste a minute, does she?" muttered Hal to Uncle David.

"Never did," he mumbled. "You'd think that she was _materfamilias _or something."

"It is lovely," replied Trelawney politely. "I like it ever so much more than public school. The girls are all very kind and the sisters are quite patient with me."

"Very good, very good," she nodded in approval. "And how are the grades?"

"They are quite good as well, aren't they, Mama Kate?"

"Yes," said Mother. "She had an excellent report card. Even in math and science."

Aunt Justine had looked displeased at Trelawney's reference to Mother as Mama Kate. But, thought Hal in annoyance, where was she last year when the child was in dire need of someone to love and care for her? There had not been a Figalilly in sight. He realized that Aunt Justine knew what he was thinking by the way she was staring at him, but he didn't care. _She _was the one who had nearly traumatized the girl two summers ago.

Before anyone could say anything else, Hal returned to the yard with a very reluctant Butch in tow. If he doesn't watch, thought his father, he _will _get his ears boxed. He may end up sorry that he hadn't let Hal clobber him earlier.

"And this is Butch," said Phoebe with a forced cheerfulness. "This is my Auntie Anna and of course you have already met Uncle David and Uncle Charlie."

Butch looked around at them all defiantly. Annabel refused to be deterred.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Butch," she said pleasantly. "Phoebe has told us so much about your skill at baseball."

"Oh, yes," Trelawney jumped in, trying to be helpful. "Butch is an absolutely splendid pitcher. Why he was even named most valuable player for it in his summer league."

Now Butch looked uncomfortable. He could not continue his present behavior without seeming churlish. Finally, some of the manners that he had been taught kicked in.

"Yes, ma'am," he said politely. "And I'm pleased to meet you as well."

Maisie cooed in approval and he gave her a very odd look. Then he turned.

"May I please go in and wash my hands?" he asked.

"Of course, son," said his father.

After he entered the house everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Poor lad," said Annabel. "He's quite troubled. Perhaps you could have a word with him, David."

"Aunt Agatha and Aunt Justine want to have a sit down with him," said Prudence tattling once again.

Annabel looked at her sharply.

"Young lady," she said. "I have three daughters who were all very good tattlers in their day. That's twice in ten minutes. If there's a third time, you'll have a sit down with _me."_

Prudence opened her mouth to object, but Phoebe shook her head at her. Hal was amused by the way his wife's extended family all jumped in, without being asked, to help with the children's discipline. It actually reminded him of Phoebe's disciplinary style when she had first come. Now he knew where she had learned it. He decided to keep his ears open for a few pointers.

The one thing that he had noticed was that none of them ever let fresh remark go unmentioned. They dealt with it quickly and firmly, and then moved on. He wondered if perhaps his lecturing style of discipline was ineffective because after a while they stopped listening (usually before he had made his point). He realized that if he really wanted to help Phoebe he might try this tactic.

But if he thought that things were a little crazy when the aunts and uncles had arrived, the cousins created even more madness when they came in. The seven of them drove up in a pair of rather elegant vehicles, rented of course by his brothers, who showed up in their own cars. Uncle David looked at them in something approaching dismay.

"What the bloody hell is all this?" he said in great annoyance. "Haven't you children ever heard of car pooling before?"

"I knew that you would take my side in this, Dad," said Lewis rather officiously. "Once you got a look at the situation. Ben rented Sylvia car so that she could make a few visits, so of course Liam had to have the same for himself."

"Well that figures," David grumbled. "Now what are we to do about it?"

"Well, I propose this," he began.

"Leave it to Mr. Solicitor here to come prepared with all of his legal arguments," interrupted Liam.

"As, I was saying," continued Lewis. "I believe that we should leave one of the cars here with you and Mum. That way you won't be imposing too much upon the Everetts."

"That's not a bad idea," commented Rob. "Things were going to be very tight getting everyone over to the church tomorrow morning."

"Hmm, that's not a bad idea at all, son," said Uncle David. "There'll be plenty of seats in the other three cars to bring you lot over to the church then, won't there?"

Hal was amazed by the fact that none of his children disagreed with him. He had met almost all of them. And he knew that they all had very strong personalities. However, none of them were inclined to challenge their father's judgment. He guessed that this obedience in adulthood was the result of the kind of childhood discipline he had witnessed a couple of hours earlier. Yes, he was certainly going to have to be on the watch for some pointers.

Trelawney however had always disliked tension and upset. To distract everyone she spoke up.

"Why Cousin Jimmie," she said. "It's been an age! You're looking very well. And Mary, my how you've grown up!"

The latter remark was made with a hint of mischief in her voice. She had not seen Mary Chenoweth in two years, when Mary herself had still been a schoolgirl. Now she was engaged to marry Liam. She did not look especially pleased by Trelawney's observation.

"And of course you both must meet the family," she went on. "This is the Professor and Hal, Butch, and Prudence. And of course, the babe in Auntie's arms is little Maisie. I expect by this time next year you'll have one of your own, Liam!"

Emmeline was suddenly overtaken by a coughing fit. Mary's face flamed as red as her hair. The others seemed to feel a bit awkward as well. She had delivered her pronouncement in her typical wide-eyed, innocent way. However, because of Trelawney's gift of second sight it was impossible to tell if she was teasing or prognosticating. She was looking self-satisfied about something, but who could tell what? Even Phoebe, who was closest in mind to her, seemed at a loss.

Luckily, Uncle Charlie decided to help them get passed the tight spot.

"So, boys and girls," he said cheerfully. "Can I buy anyone a drink?"

His remark broke the tension and the group began to talk among themselves. Annabel had not seen her daughters in a while. David began to chat with Jimmie and Lew, while Johnny came over to admire the baby. His three, to his mortification, immediately descended upon their uncles demanding the much-anticipated presents. Liam went with Charlie and Hal to get the drink orders. As they went out to the kitchen, out of the corner of his eye, Hal noticed that Mary had been caught by Aunts Agatha and Justine.

"So, Liam," asked Hal, trying to sound as innocent as Trelawney. "Does Mary know the aunties well?"

"Doesn't know them at all as far as I know," he said. "It's been an age since they've been home in the village."

"So we heard earlier," said Hal, unable to hide his smile.

"Yes, I'm afraid that point was brought home when your Dad informed Agatha that her old beau was now a grandfather," said Uncle Charlie.

"Oh well," said Liam cheerfully. "They'll give her the once over and Aunt Justine will declare her fit to be a Figalilly wife, while Aunt Agatha waxes romantic over the ginger hair. She'll survive. It'll be a way of her paying for that trousseau she weaseled out of Bob earlier."

"Trousseau?" chorused Hal and Charlie.

Liam smirked.

"Little minx caught the prey in her sight and went in for kill," he replied. "What is it that your man P.T. Barnum said? There's one born each minute?"

"This, I have to hear," said Hal.

"Well it goes like this," said Liam. "One minute we're all going on about the cars, and of course the girls are both making of fuss over Ben there. So your brother Bob, now he's got to get into the act. Starts talking about a little shopping trip, you know making sure that they're all properly outfitted for the big event tomorrow."

"I can see where this is going," commented Hal.

"Yeah, well, so old Bobby, he offers to take the girls out to some fancy shop while Ben takes me for the car," he replied. "Then, well, you can get the blow by blow from Em. Sweet, little Mary goes along and of course she's never been out of the village before. Em says her eyes are nearly popping out of head at the clothes she sees. So Em and Syl get themselves each a new dress for the occasion. But Mary, well Mary, starts trying on so many that she can't decide."

"And then Bob buys them all for her," finished Hal.

"And a few other things," added Liam. "Including a set of luggage because it'll be the only way that we can transport the lot back to the village. Her Dad'll be glad when he sees it. It'll save him a few quid."

"I can see Emmeline encouraging her, but I'm a little surprised at Sylvia," said Charlie.

"Oh Sylvia may be the little angel of the family but she's got a sense of humor," he said. "She and Emmeline were fairly bursting by the time they got back."

"Why is that?" asked Hal.

"Because your brother spent all that money on the one girl that's already been taken, so to speak," he said. "You know, not up for grabs, you might say."

"Well, Bob won't miss it," said Hal, shaking his head. "In fact he probably doesn't even know how much he spent. His accountant will pay the bills and he won't think about it again."

"Hey!" said Emmeline, as she came in. "Where are those drinks you went after? I could use a pint after my chat with Mum."

"Help yourself," said Hal. "We were just discussing your little shopping trip."

She laughed and grabbed a Guinness. She turned to leave and then grabbed another.

"For Mary," she said briefly. "She looks like she's in need of some fortification."

Having survived his own grilling by the aunties, Hal had no doubt that that was true. If you had to listen to them both talking to you at the same time after a while it made your head spin. He wasn't sure of which was worse, Aunt Justine with her authoritarian tone or Aunt Agatha with her innuendos. And of course even though they never _meant _to cause trouble, they somehow never seemed to be able to avoid it.

Liam grabbed a few more bottles and headed out to the living room to distribute them. Hal turned to Uncle Charlie.

"Just out of curiosity," he said. "Can Mary do it too?"

"The second sight, do you mean?" he asked. "Yes, just about all in the village can, to one degree or another. The only ones who can't aren't native to it, you see. It's a part of our nature that has been passed down for centuries."

"You know," he said. "I can't help but wonder. Is your village the only one that's like that?"

"Well," he replied. "Since you've married into it you might as well know. Although I don't see why you don't just ask your wife, you know. It's a part of our Celtic nature. There are a few villages such as ours in Cornwall and Wales and Ireland, even in Scotland I hear. There was a one in Brittany, you know, on the coast of France, but I hear that they died out.

"None of them are in the new world that I know of, although maybe in Nova Scotia some say. There's not many like us anymore. And there'll be fewer in the future. There's more that like to roam than stay at home. And there's been more of these mixed marriages."

"Like Phoebe's?"

"Yes and no," said Charlie carefully. "Phoebe's a good girl. She wasn't one to let herself be distracted by the outside world. She had every intention of doing her duty when the time came. It was fate that intervened. Some of those that marry outside our kind are just looking to escape. They don't take to the traditions and customs. When Phoebe eloped we thought that she was one of those. We're glad that we were wrong."

"I'm glad that you realized that you were wrong," Hal said. "She can never turn her back on her roots. I wouldn't want her to. There's a lot of good, old-fashioned values in your culture that are absent from the world out here, not to mention a deep faith in God."

Uncle Charlie nodded.

"That's what pastor says at home," he replied. "He says that our young folk are needed out here to spread a good example. Young Sylvia is certainly one of those that do. You'll never meet a kinder heart than our Syl. Young Jimmie would be a better example if he weren't so impressed with his own piety. Now, Em, she's a funny one. Does good work in her own way, but won't talk none about it. She's got her reasons for being such as she is. But she'll never let on to us."

"Well Ben and Bob did their darnedest to find out," said Hal.

"Yeah, old Bobby was too much putting the private investigator on her tail," he laughed. "Waste of money, you know? She led him on a merry chase and then sent him down a dead end. Scandinavia, my arse! It's a part of our nature. We never let anyone know too much about us. It keeps us out of trouble if you know what I mean."

Hal did know what he meant. He was still not sure of how John and Liam had managed to untangle themselves so neatly from the unicorn situation wit the police. For now he decided to go back out to his guests and watch the fun. Uncle Charlie had been one of his best sources of information on the family in a while. But he decided to end the conversation before he realized that he was pumping him.

"So why don't we bring these out to the rest of them?" he asked. "I'm sure that everyone must be a little thirsty by now."

"More than thirsty, if you ask me," replied Charlie, with a wink.

When they returned to the living room, Hal sensed that things were getting a little warm, and crowded. He encouraged them all to go out to the backyard. Even though the balloon was out there, there was still plenty of room to stand or sit around and chat.

No sooner did they all arrive out back, when Prudence came running up.

"Where's Uncle Alfred?" she asked impatiently. "Everyone is here but him."

"And this is a problem because . . . ?" he asked in amusement.

She rolled her eyes.

"All of these relatives are so old and _boring," _she complained.

"I thought that you were pretty happy to see Uncle Bob and Uncle Ben there," he replied.

"Well," she said indignantly. "As soon a we got our presents, they started _ignoring _us to pay attention to Emmeline and Sylvia."

"Can't say that I blame them," commented Uncle Charlie mischievously.

Hal looked at him in exasperation, Prudence in confusion.

"But they're _my _uncles, not theirs," she whined.

"Right now I don't think that they are considering themselves uncles," explained Uncle Charlie. "But let's let them have their fun while it lasts. As for Alfred, he comes and goes as he pleases. And he'll show up when it pleases him, and not a minute before. Look, why don't you and me play a little game of something?"

"Do you play chess?" she asked eagerly.

"Why, yes, I've played a few games in my day," he replied. "You don't tell me that a little girl like _you _knows how to play chess?"

"Daddy taught me a little while ago," she said proudly.

"Well then, why don't we go in and have ourselves a little game?" he suggested.

After she ran inside to set up the board, Charlie turned to him.

"Be back in a jiff!"

That's what you think, thought Hal to himself once he had left the yard. Little Prudence has gotten quite good. Among other things her moves were very unpredictable because of her strategy of making "pretty designs" with the pieces. If Uncle Charlie was a good player himself, the game could go on for quite some time.

As for Uncle Alfred, Hal wouldn't be in the least bit disappointed if he had gotten lost along the way. However, with all of the children coming tomorrow he could be very useful at providing the entertainment. And maybe even Butch would come around. Right now, he was standing off to the side with a very bored expression on his face. Hal was having a lively discussion with Lewis about something. Since Lewis had attended the science fair last spring, he no doubt had asked him about his summer program.

Mother meanwhile was presiding over a table that included Aunts Annabel, Justine, and Agatha. Completely oblivious to the undercurrents around her, she was enjoying playing the grande dame hostess and "bonding" with the other ladies of her generation. That was why she had insisted on this nonsense after all. She would probably be the only one who would be sorry when it was over.

_To be continued . . . _


	5. Sylvia's Conversations

**Sylvia's Conversations**

_Sylvia finds herself on the go as she catches up on the news in town since she left. She now takes up the mission to restore Trelawney's spirits._

Sylvia Figalilly was grateful for the blatant, not too mention excessive, show of wealth by Phoebe's brothers-in-law. All she had to do was sweetly ask Ben where she might rent a car and he was driving her over to the rental agency and paying for a luxury auto. Amused, she looked forward to driving back to the hotel and seeing how long it took Liam to request a similar one.

But her primary purpose was to go and visit Pastor Jason, also known as the Angel, to see what was up with little Trelawney. Knowing exactly where his office in the rectory was, she found him at his desk with the door open, waiting for her.

"Good of you to come so quickly," he said.

"Well," she said. "I know that tomorrow you'll be keeping things very low key. Ducking out early, I presume?"

"Exactly," he said. "I have another commitment lined up with the family out of town. I'll stay long enough to satisfy social obligation and then take off. With so many of you around, it is very difficult to maintain my disguise for any length of time. Fortunately, everyone will be so busy looking at the baby that they are not likely to notice me."

"Good," she said. "So what can I do for you?"

"Well," he said. "It's Trelawney."

"And when is it _not _Trelawney?" she inquired dryly.

"Fair enough," he said. "We have an unforeseen complication. She seems to have developed a crush on her knight in shining armor."

"Topher?" she asked. "Knowing Trelawney, it's probably more of a fixation. But she's at that age. And it's not surprising that he's the object of her affection. Would you like me to provide a sympathetic ear and cheer her up?"

"She needs more than that," he said seriously. "And I misspoke. This really is more than a crush. If you can get her to talk about it, then you'll see what I mean."

"Oh dear," said Sylvia in dismay. "Warn me ahead of time. What fantasy has her little brain cooked up now?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Drat, thought Sylvia, his mind is impenetrable. I'm going to have to rely on what he's wiling to tell me.

"Do you want me to sugarcoat it or do you want it straight?" he asked.

"Give it to me straight up," she said. "That's the way I take my whiskey."

"She wants them to become betrothed," he said plainly.

"She _what_?" Sylvia was astounded.

"She wants them to become betrothed," he calmly repeated. "She is convinced that she and Topher are destined to be together. It wouldn't be so bad except that he has a girlfriend and she is convinced that _they _are in love and will get married."

"I'm guessing that they are not in love," she said.

"It's more like they are in lust," he said.

Sylvia sighed.

"Poor baby," she said. "And she doesn't understand a bit of _that_. How did this come about?"

"Well, on Trelawney's end, it seems to have started after Maisie's birth," he explained. "He seems to have made the same realization at that time as well."

"Oh, dear," she replied. "More fallout from the unicorn."

"As for the girl, the young lady, if you want to call her that, she for some inexplicable reason has caught his fancy," he answered. "She is the new lead singer for his band. The 'sexual tension' is apparently a big draw and he's making money hand over fist, which he needs for college."

"Any chance that it's all for show?" she asked.

"I actually think that that is a very strong possibility," he replied. "But money aside, he's ruining his own reputation, destroying his parents, and breaking young Trelawney's heart. And I'm not convinced that it's necessary. While it may appear that he is using her, I think that he is the one who is being used by the girl. She's a piece of work."

"A real floozy, huh?"

"To put it mildly," he said. "She takes pride in deflowering every good-looking guy that she runs into. I have a feeling that Topher is presenting a challenge. That may explain her unusual interest in him for this length of time. At least I hope that he still is."

"Hmm," replied Sylvia. "I know the type. She's the wicked enchantress, then isn't she? And the little one can't see it. I suppose that it's out of the question to explain to her that she's the negative transformative to Trelawney's positive?"

"And what would you see as the end result of that?"

"Okay, bad idea," she admitted. "The little one would go off on a crusade of her own to save him and cause a world of problems for everyone."

"Except for herself, most likely," he replied. "That convent school we have her locked up in insulates her from the harsh realities of male-female relationships as well as most of the other realities of living out her in the larger world. However there is something that we must consider."

"What is that?"

"That she's right," he replied calmly. "And if that's so, then maybe he's right as well. Remember, it's not just about her."

Sylvia was silent. There was definitely something to that theory. She thought of Phoebe and the Professor, the romantic and the scientist. The same paradigm applied to Trelawney and Topher. And the age difference? Considering that it was a mere five years versus fifteen for Phoebe and her Professor, it certainly didn't seem like much. However, Trelawney was a little girl. He couldn't touch her. In fact, he wouldn't touch her. And she knew that.

"Well, tell me," she asked. "What makes you think that he may have . . . reciprocal feelings?"

"The evidence," he replied. "Phoebe came to me about a week ago and told me that he had asked her three months ago if Trelawney was already betrothed to anyone, and if she wasn't, how could he go about doing it?"

"He's a brave lad," she commented.

"More like ignorant," he said. "From what she told me, Phoebe made mincemeat out of him and sent him on his way. And it was not once, but twice. She went to see him a second time, this time more recently. She came to me because she was afraid that he was hurting himself."

"I don't know Topher well," said Sylvia. "Liam is the one who really knows him. He told me that he was a child of light. It's very unusual, but not impossible, as you know. It could be that the other girl _is _meant to destroy him. And it sounds like he's vulnerable."

"He is a child of light," confirmed Pastor Jason. "I've known him all his life. If there were anyone who was outside of your race who would be a candidate, it would be him. He is one of the most idealistic young people that I have ever met. He sees Trelawney for what she is, pure light and goodness. He can't help but be attracted to her. That his love of her would shift from gallant knight to courtly lover is definitely within the realm of possibility."

"And of course the courtly lover worships the fair maiden from afar. However, within the medieval context, he never looks upon her as a potential bride," she replied thinking aloud. "But this no longer about medieval contexts. This is a young man whose tender heart had been broken. In modern parlance, he's on the rebound. The young vixen probably pounced the minute that Phoebe turned him down."

"She could very well destroy him," he said seriously.

"And that would destroy Trelawney," she finished. "Have you tried talking to him?"

"I approached him once and he blew me off," he replied. "I cannot force him to sit and listen. He is the one who must come to me for guidance. I am not his guardian angel. I am his pastor. There is a very large difference."

"Yes, I know that," she said. "But if you are here to protect the little one, then couldn't you do something for that reason?"

"Would that I could," he replied. "But it is not allowed. Remember that I couldn't protect her from Cholmndeley. Others, Liam and then Topher and Mike did, even you and Emmeline to a certain extent and certainly Hal Everett. Many people played their part in order to protect her and by extension Phoebe and Maisie from all the dark forces that were using him, not to mention Henrietta, to get at them."

"Not to change the subject," she interrupted. "But what's up with the old bird?"

"Oh, she's still in town, but whatever Liam and Johnny said to her was effective," he replied. "She's still making a pretty penny off of the gullible, but she hasn't gone near the girls since Maisie was born. She has been neutralized, you might say."

"Good, she would only complicate matters," said Sylvia. "But what about Trelawney? How do you think that I can help her?"

"I think that it would be useful for you to engage her in a little girl talk about her unrequited love," he suggested. "And keep Emmeline out of it. She's much too cynical, not to mention bossy. She is also Phoebe's closest friend. Because of that, she would likely take Phoebe's side. There is little doubt that she would make things worse."

"Oh, yes," Sylvia agreed. "I can hear her now."

He looked at her and nodded.

"But what should I tell her?" she asked. "I surely shouldn't give her hope."

"Why not?" he asked. "I did. I told her that I thought that it was all a big act on his part to draw more fans to the show. It's a pity that I haven't seen him. Then I would know for sure."

"Well, if I saw him," she said. "I would certainly know. Know where I could find him?"

"That, I could not tell you," he said. "But he has a local diner where he likes to hang out with his friends. If they are not practicing, then they're probably there."

"Where is it?" she asked. "There is no way that I'm giving her any hope, unless I know that he's still worthy. And if he's not then I will do my best to keep her away from him. She would know right away."

"Yes, she would," he agreed.

After getting the directions, Sylvia immediately drove over to the diner. Like all Figalillys, she wasted no time when something needed doing. She saw a van in the parking lot that she immediately recognized. Feeling lucky, she went in and looked around. There he was at a corner table with a group of kids and a bleached blonde hanging on him. She was pretty enough, but would have been prettier if the clothing she was wearing concealed more than it revealed.

The other teenage boys surrounding them had their heads filled with impure thoughts about her. In fact, a few of them had even "known her" in the Biblical sense. But from her present vantage point she could not get a read on Topher. Choosing an inconspicuous spot at the counter, she ordered a cup of tea and sat down to watch.

She saw the girl nuzzling his neck and then draw him into a firm lip lock. He responded fairly mechanically. Her aura was glowing a deep red, not so much with passion but with a destructive heat. His aura, which had previously always been a clear turquoise, was now a milky white. He seemed sickly in spirit. She instantly realized who the girl was and that she was trying to drain him of his goodness. She was failing, but he was being weakened by his own guilt.

When he pulled away, she, even at her present distance, could see that he was full of self-loathing. He clearly hated her, but he hated himself more. He was punishing himself. And who could even know why? She resisted the urge to go over and pull him away. She knew that she couldn't do that without creating a scene of magnificent proportions with the girl.

Paying her bill and leaving a tip, she left with her tea untouched. The sight of that beautiful young man caught in the clutches of the young witch made her sick. But she knew that they needed to keep Trelawney away from him. If she saw this, she would rush in and try to drag him away. The older girl would no doubt mock her. And if Topher rebuffed her attempts, then who knew what she would do?

It was clear that Pastor Jason was right. If one were destroyed, then so would the other. This appeared to be some kind of a preemptive strike against the two. Trelawney was well protected, so the forces of darkness had chosen to attack the more vulnerable one. They must have some very powerful reasons for keeping them apart. That meant that the young people were most probably right. They were fated to be together. But they were still too young. The timing was wrong. Still, if some kind of intervention did not happen, then who knew what would happen?

Mulling all over this over she returned to the hotel. Before she went inside, she knew that she had to clear this from her mind. She couldn't do what she needed to do alone, but she realized that Mum might be able to help. She got out and saw Liam walking up. He whistled.

"Nice wheels, sis," he said. "Courtesy of one of the money bags?"

"Ben," she said quickly. "Why don't you look him up and get some for yourself?"

Well, that was neatly done, she thought as he ran off. No doubt, he and Mary would want to go off for a little spin and some privacy. She was a piece of work herself. The rather spoiled youngest child of the same Chenoweths that Christy had married into, she was a bit of a wild one. However, compared with the little number that Topher had hooked up with, she was quite innocent. She had a saucy tongue but a lively sense of humor.

Upon entering the lobby, she discovered her siblings discussing the vehicle situation. Lewis, thrifty one, was arguing that since Ben and Bob both had cars there was no need for a fourth one. The others, naturally, didn't see it his way.

"Oh, Lew," said Emmeline. "Stop being such a stick in the mud. You know that you're just upset because you've misplaced your precious briefcase."

Mary choked a bit and Sylvia wanted to strangle her. Of course it was well hidden in their suite and unfortunately she knew it. Fortunately, Lew was so intent on making his case that he didn't notice. Emmeline gave her a sharp pinch.

Finally, Ben announced that since he had taken the girls to rent a car he would take Liam. Once they were gone, Sylvia noticed that Bob seemed a little restless. Emmeline gave her a wink and walked over to sit beside him.

"You know what the problem is with being on the road for so long and living out of suitcase?" she asked sweetly.

"No," he said absentmindedly.

"Well, I guess being a man and all, you wouldn't realize it," she said. "But it is difficult for a woman to pack for all occasions, isn't it Syl?"

"Oh, yes," agreed Sylvia quickly. "Very difficult. I just barely have something appropriate for the christening."

"Well that's too . . ." Bob started. "Perhaps we could do a little shopping. You know, there's a Bergdorf's here in town."

"A what?" asked Mary, who was sometimes a little thick.

"It's a store," explained Emmeline. "Nice clothes and the like. What do you think Syl, should we have a look see?"

"Hmm," said Sylvia. "That's a bit too rich for my blood. I'm not really a one for the high street shops."

"True," said Emmeline. "What else do we have around here?"

"Now girls," said Bob patiently. "You just put your wallets away. If I'm going to bring you to a store then it's my treat. What do you say? You do need to be properly outfitted for tomorrow, don't you?"

"I don't know if we can accept that, do you, Em?" asked Sylvia cautiously.

"Well," said Emmeline. "Now that he's made the kind offer, I don't think that it would be polite to turn it down now, do you?"

"Of course not!" interjected Mary. "Oh, I'm sorry . . . I just assumed."

"Well, you assumed right, little Mary," said Bob, his high spirits returning. "I'll get my car and meet the three of you at the front door."

After he left, Emmeline turned to her.

"Had to cheer up the old boy, then didn't we?"

"Oh, quite definitely," agreed Sylvia. "And I could use a new outfit."

Mary was quiet.

"You don't suppose that Liam will be bothered if I accept his generosity, do you?" she asked, now anxious.

Sylvia and Emmeline burst out laughing.

"No, love," said Emmeline. "No doubt he'll get a good laugh out of it too."

In fact they all did. Young Mary ended up with more clothes than she had probably ever owned before in her life. Sylvia would never have accepted so much for herself, but since Mary was spoken for, there would be no quid pro quo about it. And the boys had a good laugh about it themselves, when they found out about it, even Lew. It would be interesting to see how the rest of the family responded.

When they arrived at Phoebe's however, her main concern was the little one, who was keeping a very low profile. For a few minutes she seemed like her old self, teasing young Mary about being so young. They had been at school together, in fact. But then she seemed to close up again.

While she and Em had their little catch up with Mum, she noticed that she kept looking over at her. She had wandered off to a corner and curled up in a chair. When Mum was done with them, she gave her a tip of the head to indicate that she needed to talk to her little cousin. Mum knew that she was making a fuss about a lad who wasn't noticing her.

"So little one," she said as she knelt beside the chair. "How are things really with you?"

Trelawney looked back at her solemnly. Sylvia could see that she wanted to talk to her, but it had to be a private conversation. Looking around, Sylvia realized that with all of the hustle and bustle if they disappeared for a bit no one would be the wiser. Taking the girl's hand, she led her outside so that they could take a walk around the block.

Once they were away from the house, Trelawney seemed to relax. It then occurred to Sylvia that she had been out here in the larger world for so long than she had forgotten what was like to be surrounded by those of their own kind. She had to be much more on guard than she had in a while. And now she had something to hide. She realized that Mum had already dragged it out of her.

"Well, love," said Sylvia kindly. "Shall you tell me or shall I put two and two together?"

Trelawney looked troubled.

"I am really no good at concealing my thoughts anymore, am I?" she asked sadly.

"Well, little one," replied Sylvia carefully. "When one is as troubled as you are now, it is difficult to shield them. Now I can see that Mum has figured out a bit of it. But I also knew that from her. So don't be too hard on yourself. I know you better than she does right now. Why don't you let me have a go at it? Maybe I can _really _help."

"Perhaps you can," she said thoughtfully. "After all, you know him too."

"Know who, little one?"

"Topher," she said. "My dear, dear Topher has fallen in love with another girl, an older girl, a beautiful singer. And he has forgotten all about me."

"Are you quite sure about all of this, then?" she asked, clearing her mind of everything that she already knew.

"Yes, well, I don't know," she admitted. "Pastor Jason doesn't think so."

"So you've talked to him?" she asked carefully.

"Pastor Jason is my spiritual advisor, remember?" she said. "I go and talk to him so that Aunt Justine won't be mad because I might be seeing a counselor."

"Yes, of course," she said. "I had forgotten. What did Pastor Jason actually say?"

"He said that they could be playacting," she answered. "Because Topher needs money for school. So now I am quite confused. Auntie Agatha thinks that it's a crush that I've got, just like your Mum. _Everyone _thinks that it's a crush."

"But it's not," she said definitively.

"No, it's not," she said and looked up at her. "Does that mean that you believe me?"

"Yes, love, I do," Sylva replied seriously. "But I am not sure if that is better or worse. What is it that makes you think that he is worthy of your love? And don't hide anything from me now. This is Sylvia, here."

"I know," she replied with a shy smile. "I'm ever so glad that you believe me. Perhaps you will understand. You see, Topher is a child of light, just like me. No matter what anyone says, he is a good and honorable man. And I am meant for him and he is meant for me. I don't know how I know it, I just know it."

"That's the way it is when it's like that, I hear," said Sylvia. "I've never been in love like that myself, so I really don't know."

"Auntie Anna knows," said Trelawney. "She looked into my eyes and said that she saw the same love there as she had seen in Mum's eyes for Papa. But if Topher has fallen in love with someone else then I am lost."

Swiftly closing her own mind off to the child, Sylvia contemplated her words. She believed that Pastor Jason was right. She had seen for herself what the true nature of Topher's relationship with the other girl was. Trelawney must be given hope or she would begin to fade away. But how could she do so without letting on that not only had she talked to Pastor Jason, but that she had also seen Topher? The idea that Topher would marry such a girl was ridiculous, but Trelawney had no idea of what she was really all about.

But beyond that, there was a large age difference between the two that made it illegal for him to be anything more than a friend. And after her experience with the unicorn, everyone would be twice as careful about letting her anywhere near a man, even one who was really very little more than a boy himself, who was older. And if Topher were able extricate himself from his present situation, unless he knew of Trelawney's past, he might unwittingly walk into a situation that was potentially very dangerous to himself.

"Trelawney, love," she began gently. "Please remember where you are. Topher would not even consider looking at you. Do you understand why?"

She shook her head. Oh dear, thought Sylvia, she really doesn't understand this at all. How can I explain it to her so that she doesn't completely lose all hope in the rightness of things?

"Let me put it another way," she said. "You told Mum that he doesn't see you. Now I am quite sure that Topher does see you. But I am equally sure that he does not see you as a woman. Darling, you are still a little girl. He is a most good, kind, and honorable man. He would never do anything to hurt you. That is why he would never dream of seeing you as a woman."

"Oh," she said.

"Sweetheart," she continued. "Topher has always been your knight in shining armor, ever since he has known you. And I doubt very much that he sees himself in any other way with regards to you. But he cannot look at you _that_ way."

"Oh," she repeated.

"Do you understand what I am saying?" she asked.

"Yes," she said sadly. "But why won't he even speak to me? It would be alright for him to still be my friend, wouldn't it?"

"Trelawney, the only person who can answer that question is Topher himself," she replied kindly. "Now you must shake yourself out of this little mood that you've gotten yourself into. Everyone is very happy and they want you to be happy too."

"Yes, I know," she said with a sigh. "I'm trying. Really and truly, I am trying. But every time that I think that I am feeling happy, I feel sad again. I just don't know what is wrong with me."

"There, there," said Sylvia, taking the girl in her arms. "We have almost walked around the block. When we go back, I would like to see you cheer up. You may be quiet of course, but let's see a few more smiles, okay?"

"Yes, Sylvia," she replied obediently. "I will try."

When they returned to the yard, she walked over to where Aunt Agatha was and sat beside her. She could see her auntie asking her questions and she was giving responses. She was even trying to smile. She looked up and saw Mum calling her over.

"Sylvia, lovey, did you get anything out of her?" she asked.

"She's taken a fancy to some boy who doesn't notice her," she said. "Of course he's seventeen, so he better not be noticing her, like that anyway."

"Well, I've uncovered that much myself," she replied. "Did she say anything else? You know. Did she give you any clues?"

"Well," said Sylvia. "She did say that she understood about the lad being too old. And she said that she's been trying to cheer up. You know, keep a stiff, upper lip and all that. But she also said that she just can't shake the gloomy mood."

Mum was silent for a minute. Sylvia knew that she was thinking but she wasn't about to let her know what. Finally, she spoke.

"Well, keep an eye on her lovey," she said. "It could be that this mood will pass and none of us will have to say a word."

Sylvia looked back at her Mum, but her mind was a blank slate to her. However considering that she had raised three daughters, she was probably better equipped than any of the rest of them to understand and help the poor child. Then she looked around and saw Mary talking to Phoebe, who was looking rather agitated. Oh, now what? She thought. She quickly went over.

"Sylvia," said Phoebe, as she approached. "What is it that I hear about a shopping trip that Bob Everett took you girls on."

"Had to open your mouth, love, didn't you?" said Emmeline coming up behind Sylvia.

"Well, it was your idea, Miss High and Mighty!" said Mary defensively.

"Well, don't think that you didn't take full advantage of it, and then some," replied Emmeline.

"Now, Phoebe," said Sylvia. "It was no big deal really. Emmeline did mention that we both travel light and that, well, we didn't have anything, shall we say, properly festive for the event. Well, you know Bob. He just wanted to play the hero, like he always does."

"More like the sugar daddy," commented Phoebe.

"Huh?" asked Mary.

"You know," said Emmeline. "He was looking to throw a little money around to impress us. He didn't mean any harm by it, Phoebe. But you know every once in a while you like to see those like him get made a fool of."

"What's going on over here?" asked Rob. "It looks like you four are having some kind of an intense little pow wow."

"It's no big deal," said Emmeline with a brush of the hand. "It's just about Bob being a little generous again."

"Oh?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, well, a little too generous from what I gather," said Phoebe in annoyance. "It seems that he brought the girls here on a little shopping spree and cleaned out Bergdorf's."

"Really?" said Rob, clearly amused. "How much did you sucker him for?"

Now Mary looked very puzzled and a bit ill at ease. Emmeline looked at her, her eyes alight with mischief. Phoebe glowered.

"Well, whatever it was he'll never miss it," said Rob with a shrug.

"But Rob . . ."

"Cool it, daughter-in-law," said Rob. "If I'm to be labelled _paterfamilias _for the weekend, I believe that means that you actually have to listen to me for once."

Sylvia saw the surprise and hurt in Phoebe's eyes and felt bad. She also knew that Phoebe had been more than a dutiful daughter to both him and Catherine. Rob must have sensed that he had come on a little too strongly.

"I'm sorry, Phoebe," he said more gently. "I know that this is really harder for you than you're letting on. Try and forget about all of the hoopla and think about the really important thing, the baptism tomorrow."

"Of course, Rob," she answered meekly.

Fortunately, they could hear the baby crying from inside the house. She hurried off to take care of her.

"You know," he said to them. "It is possible to carry a joke too far. Lighten up on Phoebe. There was no need to say anything about my son making a fool of himself. And don't forget that she and Trelawney will also be missing their parents this weekend. They could both use a little TLC."

"TLC?" asked Mary.

"Tender loving care, you little dolt," said Em impatiently. "Try to forget that you two used to dislike each other so much."

Rob looked at them all curiously.

"No need to worry," said Emmeline. "It was all kid stuff."

Sylvia nodded and looked over at Em. After Rob walked away, they each grabbed Mary by the elbow to take her off for a little private conversation. If they weren't careful, she was going to get them all in trouble. No doubt, Mum and Dad would only have so much patience with the foolish behavior. It would be better for all of them to cool it before any real problems were stirred up.

As they were saying their piece to Mary, Liam came up.

"Picking on my bride-to-be now, are you?" he asked with a distinct edge in his voice.

"We're just having a little discussion here about diplomacy," replied Emmeline. "And about what we say to Cousin Phoebe and what we don't about her two brothers-in-law."

"Oh, that," replied Liam. "Girl, you need to keep your mouth shut about that rot. You stick to the wedding plans and saying nice things about me, I picked you over your two sisters because you were the one with a bit of spirit. Don't make me regret my choice, then."

She swallowed hard and looked around at them all.

"I am very sorry, Liam," she said. "I will try to hold my tongue. I don't mean to make problems for the family."

"Yes, well, that's a good girl," he said, pleased that she had acquiesced so easily.

Before he could walk away, Sylvia grabbed his arm.

"Can I speak to you for a minute?" she asked.

"Of course, love," he said. "Is this to be a private conversation?"

She nodded and led him off to the side of the house.

"Okay, what is it, Syl?" he asked seriously. "I recognize that 'I'm out to save the world' look on your face, but I can also see that it's more than that."

"It's much more than that," she replied with equal gravity. "It's the little one. She has fallen quite hard for Topher and he isn't giving her the time of day. In fact, he's got himself a girlfriend his own age. He won't even look at her and it's got her heartbroken."

"Well," answered Liam. "I really don't see the problem other than Trelawney Rose has got to get over this. Of course, he'll not look twice at her. She's just a little girl."

"Yes, that's the way that everyone sees it but her," she replied. "This girl that he's taken up with is a real tramp from what I've seen."

"You've seen her?" he asked in surprise.

"Well," she admitted. "I had a little visit with the Angel, and no, I won't tell you who it is. That one is quite worried about the two of them. Now you told me that Topher is a child of light. But this girl is bound on destroying all the good that's in him. And if she destroys him, then she destroys the little one without lifting a finger."

"You would think that the bloody forces of darkness would have more important things to bother with than a schoolgirl crush," he said. "But I don't see what I can do. It's none of my business."

"I don't really think that there is anything that you can do," she replied. "But tell me. Did you tell him all about her and Cholmondeley?"

"I may have let it slip," he said uncomfortably.

"Slip?"

"Okay," he admitted. "When I sensed that he and Mike were starting to lose their nerve as the storm got worse last summer, I mentioned how he had harmed the girl. That surely got them fired up. Come to think of it, young Topher had murder in his heart for a while, not much different from me. But he was different from me. Still is, as far as I know."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"It's in the aura," he explained. "I've never seen the like. Pure turquoise it is. You know, the deep blue with the gold shining through. When I first realized it, I thought that _he _was the Angel. But the Angel's would be the pure, rich gold then, wouldn't it?"

"Yes it would and yes it is," she said. "But don't think that you'll be seeing that one any time soon."

"Won't even tell me if it's woman or man, will you?"

She shook her head.

"Okay," he said. "So then, she loves him and I have no doubt that he loves her. And because of that, he won't go near her. He's out to protect her, I suspect. You know how impulsive she is. He's a good lad and knows it too. Maybe the older girl is a cover."

"I think that she is in more ways than one," confirmed Sylvia. "I believe that they're playing some kind of a game to draw fans to his band, by the way she's the lead singer, by pretending to have this romance. Maybe it's a John and Yoko thing, who knows? But the little one doesn't understand it at all."

"No," he said. "Well, there is very little that I can do. I've told you what I know of the lad. Everything that I know points to the fact that he's trying to protect her, most probably from herself. It's better if he stays away from her, even if it does break her heart a little."

"But what if we start to lose her?" she asked.

She followed his gaze as Liam looked over at Trelawney who was now sitting and talking quietly with Dad. Dad patted her on the head and she smiled up at him.

"I don't think that that will happen," he replied slowly. "I don't know what will happen, but I believe that everything is going to work out in accordance with fate. I don't know how I know, I just know."

Sylvia looked at him sharply. Liam never talked like that. He didn't even seem to notice that he had said it. She decided to let the matter drop for now. Trelawney seemed to have cheered up so there was no reason to bring it up again.

"It's really about the little one then, isn't it?" he asked, now his voice full of concern. "Something is troubling her that's more than a schoolgirl crush. We can all sense it."

"Yes, and none of us, even Mum knows what to do about it," she replied. "I was hoping that you could help."

"I wish I could do more," he said, shaking his head. "You know, I wish sometimes that we could just bring her home to the village and keep her safe. She would really love living with Mum and Dad."

"And she would be pining away for her Phoebe something fierce," replied Sylvia. "And that could also destroy her."

Liam looked as though he was going to burst. He was now clearly struggling to contain himself. But he failed. Finally, he exploded in fury.

"Why can't the bloody darkness just leave her alone?" he exclaimed. "If it's not after her then it's after the ones she loves. There can't be another child of light out there that's had to live with so much sorrow."

"No, there can't," she agreed. "But your temper will only feed it. And don't forget that. The only way to fight the evil is with goodness. I thought that it was Topher who taught you that."

"Yes, it was him," said Liam more quietly. "And our little Trelawney Rose. I have to wonder how he really feels about her. All of this speculating is getting us nowhere. If I ever met anyone who was a match for her in goodness it was him. Pity, that he's an outsider."

"Yes, indeed," replied Sylvia. "It's a very great pity."

As her brother walked away, she realized that he loved the child as deeply as any of them. And his love was not born of the duty that he had to care for and protect her one day when he was _paterfamilias_. Just as with all of them, Trelawney had wrapped herself around his heart. And while there was no way that she could know for sure, she thought that it was very likely that she was wrapped around Topher's heart as well. And she knew quite well that when young Trelawney did that, it was impossible to break free.

_To be continued . . ._

_In future chapters, the antics of the family continue. Families do have a way of acting out when they all get together for big events. But in the end, all's well that ends well._


	6. Family Bonds

**Family Bonds**

One of the things that Rob Everett enjoyed most about his present time of life was that more often than not, he was an observer rather than an actor in the family dramas that inevitably unfolded around him. And of course the more family members that were brought together in the same place and at the same time, the more drama there was. The christening of his youngest grandchild should have been a simple ceremony followed by a small party for close family. His wife had other ideas.

With the aiding and abetting of his two older sons, a celebration of an important religious milestone had turned into the family social event of the year. Catherine, disappointed because there had not been a big wedding had prevailed upon Hal and Phoebe to use the christening as a means of what she called "family bonding time." In the case of the wedding, Hal had sided with Phoebe when she refused to have a reception. In this instance, he had taken his mother's part. Rob suspected that in both cases he had chosen what he perceived as the path of least resistance.

Once Bob and Ben had heard that a relatively large contingent of Figalillys were attending, including the cousins Emmeline and Sylvia, they needed very little encouragement from their mother to open their wallets and flaunt their wealth. In what could only be described as a late-in-life case of sibling rivalry, they sought to outdo each other in terms of how they could ensure the comfort of Phoebe's family members.

The younger folk were set up at a local hotel in a couple of suites where the boys had also taken rooms. They were told to order anything they wanted from room service or the dining room. They even rented them a couple of luxury sedans so that they would have freedom of movement.

Most of this generation was world travelers, but Liam's bride-to-be, Mary, had never been outside of the village before. For better (or perhaps worse) the lively young red-head was not shy in the least, especially when it came to taking advantage of her family-to-be's foolish in-laws.

Liam was something of a wise guy of the first order as well. When Phoebe expressed her mortification that Mary was imposing to the degree she was on the boys' generosity, he just told her to bug off. Mary was having a little fun at the Everett brothers' expense and it was their own fault if they were being taken in. Rob had then pulled his daughter-in-law aside and told her to cool it. The boys would never miss the money and it was giving them all a good laugh at their expense.

But since Phoebe had never wanted any of this, she was more bothered than anyone by the fact that the christening had taken on a bit of a circus atmosphere. The afternoon of the day before, the Hal and Phoebe had a barbecue for the newly arrived family. It had been a time of good cheer and merriment for all involved. His son had thoughtfully laid in a good supply of stout. However his stab at playing the good host had a few unintended consequences and things became rather boisterous towards the end.

It was difficult to say which family's behavior was worse, but in the end there are always two topics that will get any family going, religion and politics. Since there was very little common ground to argue between the Brits and the Yanks, so to speak, that left the former topic. Initially he had thought that the youngest Figalilly brother, Jimmie, was the quiet one. However after a couple of pints of Guinness he was only too ready to take on the theoretical heathens of the family. He started with Liam.

"Well, big brother," he said. "I don't understand why you're bothering with all the fuss of a church wedding next month. When was the last time that you were in church? Christy's wedding?"

Liam was not one to take a challenge like that lying down, but Mary had the quicker tongue and came back at him immediately.

"Me? Go to a registry instead of a church?" she replied in indignation. "It's about what the bride wants you know. The groom has got to follow along."

"Well," he conceded. "Knowing your Mum, I'm sure that she's been making sure that you've been paying lip service all these years. But you're no better than him. Anyone who sees that red hair can tell it."

"I want to know where you come off making aspersions against my future wife," declared Liam. "And, love, you shut your mouth. I'll do the defending around here."

Rob watched in amusement as Emmeline gave Mary a quick jab in the ribs. He could tell that she couldn't stand the girl. But Jimmie wasn't done.

"Well I'm sure that your Dad wouldn't mind saving a few pounds if you did opt for the registry route," he said. "Or you could just go off to Gretna Green."

"Who's Greta Green?" asked Prudence, who had been listening avidly and not understanding a word.

"_Gretna _Green," replied Trelawney. "It's in Scotland where couples go to elope."

"Oh," said Prudence. "Why don't you go to where Mommy and Daddy eloped?"

"I'm not sure that they would pass inspection with Pastor Dugan," said his son Hal mischievously.

"Hal!" he said, remembering to do his duty as a parent. The last thing that he needed was for his own boys to get involved.

"Sounds like we have a good old fashioned _reductio ad absurdum _going on here to me," commented the family lawyer Lewis, who himself had had a few.

"Are you saying that me and Liam getting married is _absurd?" _asked Mary in a huff.

"No, love," soothed Sylvia. "It's the conversation that's absurd."

"But the conversation is about me and Liam," she said. "Isn't it?"

"No," said Prudence. "It's about someone named Greta Green eloping in Scotland."

"GretNA Green!" insisted Trelawney. "And nobody's eloping anywhere. Unless of course one of your uncles wants to have his way with one of my cousins."

"Trelawney!" chorused Sylvia and Emmeline together.

"Isn't one of you going to put a stop to this?" asked Rob of the aunts and uncles.

"Oh, no," said Aunt Justine, for once amused. "I can't remember the last time I've been so entertained at a family function."

Thankfully, Aunt Agatha wasn't present.

"Just say the word, Emmeline," said Bob suggestively.

"Why don't you go for Sylvia, Bob?" asked Ben. "I'd prefer Emmeline for myself."

"Okay," he shrugged. "One is pretty much the same as the other."

"Those are my sisters that you're talking about," objected Jimmie, his attention distracted from his brother's future nuptials.

"You started this bloody rot with all that talk of elopements and such," said Emmeline, now getting annoyed herself.

"Oh, there she goes with the bloody rot, I suppose that next she'll be calling him is a bloody loon," said Trelawney.

"I thought that the bloody loon was Christabel," piped up Butch, clearly wanting a piece of the action for himself.

"I dunno," said Liam. "Christabel? Jimmie? It's one of those interchangeable insults for the pair of them if you know what I mean."

Prudence had been thinking.

"But Emmeline," she said innocently. "When you called Christabel a bloody loon, didn't you say that _you_ were going to elope if you ever got married?"

"I wonder where she heard that?" asked Sylvia of the air.

"It was Trelawney," said Prudence a bit smugly. "She said that I'm a tape recorder, but I think that she is too."

"Uh, oh, Pru," said Hal looking over at Annabel "That was a hat trick."

"But Uncle Alfred's not here yet," said Butch. "How can there be any hat tricks?"

"Do you know what three strikes and you're out means?" asked his brother Hal.

Before he could answer, Annabel was on her feet and making her way towards Prudence. Prudence looked at her with her biggest puppy dog eyes.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Annabel," she said, giving her usual excuse after tattling. "I forgot."

"Forgot, my arse!" she replied. "When I promise a sit down, I mean what I say."

"God keeps his promises," commented Trelawney.

By now the backyard was full of laughing men, women, and children, half of whom didn't even know what they were laughing at. Catherine had been in the house with Phoebe and Agatha cleaning up. When she saw everyone laughing together, she looked pleased.

"Oh, I just love it when families get along!" she enthused. "Tell me, what was the joke?"

"Uncle Ben wants to elope with Cousin Emmeline," said Butch before anyone could shut him up.

"Isn't that lovely!" she said. "And what did Emmeline say?"

Rob couldn't stand it anymore. Despite the laughter, a few of the adults were looking daggers at each other.

"_Dear," _he said emphatically. "_That was _the joke."

"Oh," she said in disappointment.

"I think that we all have an early morning and a busy day tomorrow," he said. "And these children need to get to bed."

Trelawney opened her mouth.

"Not a word," he roared, regretting his choice of words. "Now go back up the street with your Mama Kate, right now."

"Yes, sir," she replied politely. "I believe that Auntie Anna may be through with Prudence. Perhaps she could come with us."

"Very good idea, little one," said Liam. "Very good idea!"

Rob looked at David who shrugged.

"If Annabel returns out here," he said. "It's very likely that this lot will get a sit down too. What do you say, folks?"

In no time, the backyard cleared out and he left with Charlie and David to go back up the street by themselves. Fortunately, Phoebe, who had been tending to Maisie, had missed the latest exchange.

"I must say that was a lark," commented Charlie, still chuckling. "Figures that my son stayed out of it."

"Well," said Rob. "I'm glad that Phoebe didn't witness it. I just hope that none of the children say anything."

"Oh, they said plenty already," said David. "Especially that Prudence. I must say, I have never heard anyone muddle a story as good as her."

"You should see her play chess," remarked Charlie. "Such a muddle of thinking, but a darn good little player. I've never seen the like."

"I wonder what the other "kids" are up to now?" asked Rob feeling worried.

He discussed it with David and they decided to go over to the hotel together to get their errant offspring under control before the ceremony the next day. Charlie decided to turn in. He knew that Johnny was probably just quietly getting drunk and didn't want to get mixed up with the others.

To a large extent, Phoebe was right and the whole thing had gotten out of hand. Catherine, focused as she was on bonding with the older generation, was oblivious to the shenanigans of the younger. And if things got too far out of hand tomorrow, then it could wreak havoc on Catherine and Phoebe's previously harmonious relationship and therefore on his own peaceful existence.

When they arrived, they found them all rather enthusiastically enjoying a "nightcap" after the family barbecue. Rob could see that at least one of the boys had the bartender running a tab. None of the family was shy about drinking and Rob thought that it was good that they had come while the crew was still lucid enough to comprehend what they were going to say.

"Having a little party for yourselves here, boys and girls?" asked David in a tone that mingled amusement and disapproval.

"Oh, now, Dad," said Liam in a cajoling tone. "We're just doing a little celebrating in honor of the little nipper, you know, being welcomed into the church and all."

"A prelude to the wedding celebrations next month no doubt," he replied. "You know, another significant religious milestone in your lives."

"That's right, sir," said Mary smartly. "Just a little prelude. Practice makes perfect, you know, especially when it comes to church and all that."

"Well," he said a bit more sternly. "None of you lot needs _any_ practice at this kind of behavior. I believe that you are all quite adept at it already. And watch your mouth, young lady, or I'll tell your Dad."

"Just as long as you don't tell my Mum," she giggled.

That was a mistake.

"One more word and it's back to Rob and Catherine's with you," he said in a tone that implied that he had heard more than enough from her. "Any more of your cheek and you'll be sharing a bed with Trelawney Rose rather than a suite with the girls here. It was me that convinced your Mum that you could be trusted to stay here with the others."

"Oh, Dad," said Liam. "Now be reasonable. You know that there will be no hanky-panky. Between Syl and Jimmie here, we've got two of the biggest prudes in Cornwall."

Rob looked over at David who was clearly becoming infuriated by the lack of respect among his children. He decided to step in before a brawl broke out.

"Boys," he said calmly to his own sons. "No one is trying to throw a wet blanket on your little party here, but you will have to be up early for church tomorrow. When your mother arranged this whole thing, she promised Phoebe that it wouldn't get out of hand."

"Come on, Dad," said Bob. "A couple drinks in the bar are hardly what I would call out of hand."

"Well, a couple of pews of hung over heathens in church tomorrow will be," he said, now getting annoyed himself. "Maybe you all will be flying out of here in a couple of days, but we attend this church every Sunday. If you make a spectacle of yourselves, then we have to live with it."

"I've always been able to hold my drink," mumbled Mary.

"Shut up, girl," ordered Liam. "Or you'll be bringing down the wrath of God on all of us."

Rob found the dynamic between the young people very interesting. Normally, Sylvia and Emmeline had more than a few things to say, but in this context, they were silent. And the two younger brothers seemed to be deferring to the elder. Johnny was a Trelawney and obviously wanted no part of the discussion. Just as his father had predicted, he was wisely (or more likely cowardly) choosing not to make himself a part of it. He realized that young Mary was a handful. In fact she had only just turned twenty.

But away from home for the first time, the spunky young lady clearly wanted to take full advantage of her newly found freedom. On the other hand, Liam was determined to show her who was boss. He suspected that even though the men held all of the power in the culture that strong-minded women were not shy about exerting themselves in domestic relationships. Liam was obviously not going to be an indulgent husband.

No one would ever know what might have been said next because a cheerful Cockney voice was heard out in the lobby.

"Yes, now sir," it said. "I am looking for the Everett party, wherever they might be."

"In the bar, sir," said the polite voice of the female desk clerk.

"In the bar? Why a' course! Now why didn't I think of that?"

"Hold on to your hats, all," said Emmeline in a low voice. "I do believe that Uncle Alfred has finally arrived."

Rob had never met Uncle Alfred before, only heard of him. Even without any forewarning, he would have known the gentleman anywhere. He was rather short, not unlike the Figalillys, and dressed in a well-worn suit with a bowler hat. He entered the room and set down his shabby suitcase with a flourish.

"Well, then, you all," he said cheerily. "Having a little bit of a party of our own, then?"

"Why Uncle Alfred," said Emmeline smoothly. "Isn't it lovely to see you? The children were asking about you earlier. It's a pity that you missed them."

"The children, yes, well," he said. "Plenty of time for them tomorrow. So what are we drinking?"

"Whatever you want, sir," replied Ben grandly. "Everything is on me."

"Well," he said. "I don't know who you are lad, but I like you already."

"Oh, I'm sorry Uncle Alfred," said Emmeline, with exaggerated decorum. "I have forgotten my manners. This is Rob, who is the Professor's father and his brothers Ben and Bob. Do you know young Mary from the village?"

"No, but I'd certainly like to," he said suggestively, ignoring the men.

"Well, _Uncle _Alfred," said Liam meaningfully. "Then let me introduce you to my _fiancée."_

"Your . . . ?" he sputtered. "Yes, of course. How do you do madam, and might I wish you both the best of luck in your future life together?"

Looking around, Rob wondered what could possibly happen next. Uncle Alfred asked for a whiskey neat, which he quickly downed and then asked for another. His somewhat florid complexion indicated that he could hold his liquor as well as any of them. The young people seemed relieved that his entry had broken into what had about to become a lecture by David. David looked at him and shrugged.

"Well," he said. "Carry on, then. But don't do anything to disgrace the family tomorrow or I'll let your mother at you."

The young people looked at each other seriously. Rob knew that Annabel was already worried about the potential raucous behavior at the wedding. Considering the wild time that had occurred at Christabel's wedding a while back, he could see why.

However, the young people must have realized might not be the best place to fully cut loose. Another consideration was that the Chenoweths, who were throwing the wedding, were not particularly well off and would be only too happy to cut the cost of the alcohol bill to save a penny or two if Annabel said the word.

After he and David left, they could hear the high spirits resume.

"Well, I tried," said David shaking his head. "Annabel and Phoebe will have your wife to thank for starting all this rot by encouraging your two spendthrift sons to create all this bloody bonding time."

"True enough," he said. "But if Phoebe is upset by their behavior at church tomorrow, it will be cold comfort to be able to blame Catherine."

"Well," he said thoughtfully. "There may actually be an advantage to the fact that Alfred showed up when he did."

"And what's that?"

"Alfred Wiggins is amusing in small doses," he explained. "But no doubt the party will break up earlier for him being there. The little ones love him, but the older folk? No, he has actually shown up right in the nick of time."

The next morning at church, Rob could see that he was right. The partygoers were all seated in pews behind the family elders, dressed in their best, and appropriately solemn for the occasion. None of them seemed the least bit tired or hung over. Behind them were the family friends, the four from the nursing home, the Tucker family minus Topher, and Lois Lenihan with Tim.

As soon as they sat down, Butch conspicuously moved from his seat in the front row, back to the one next to Tim. Prudence made a move to get up. No doubt to move back to sit next to Hannah and Miriam Tucker, but Trelawney grabbed her wrist and made her sit down. Hal sat with his girlfriend beside Prudence on the other side so that she was trapped.

After the regular Sunday service, Pastor Paul called up Phoebe and Hal with the godparents for the simple ceremony. Maisie, or Margaret Mary Everett, as she was called now, was well behaved, barely squawking as the water fell over her forehead. The usual promises were made about the godparents helping to raise her as a good Christian.

The christening gown, which had originally been made by Grandmother Rose Trelawney for Phoebe was lovely. Since Maisie was a little larger than either Phoebe or Trelawney had been, Catherine had had to make some alterations so that it would fit. Rob couldn't tell the difference for the life of him, but Annabel had noticed right away, since her own family had an identical one.

However, Annabel had earlier made a generous gesture after she had seen Maisie fully dressed, before they had left for the church.

"Phoebe," she said. "You know that if you're planning on having any more children, one of them could be a son. Since your Mum never had call for it, you don't have a little christening suit for a boy in your family. Mother made a one for Liam and all the boys wore it. If you do have a son, I would be happy to lend it to you. Unless course, Catherine has a family suit that her boys wore."

For once, Rob saw his wife look uncomfortable. It had been over forty years since either of them had seen the suit. Even if they could find it, no care had been taken to preserve it. When it came to passing along family heirlooms, it appeared that the Figalillys were far more practiced. In fairness however, they had all been living together for generations in the same village. Being the Americans that they were, even if Catherine could trace her origins back before the Revolutionary War, they could not match an old English family.

Phoebe must have sensed this because she said, "That would be lovely, Auntie. We will let you know if the time comes."

"Oh the time will come," said Trelawney wisely.

They all turned and looked at her.

"I should probably go see to Elspeth," she said uncomfortably.

"You probably should," said Phoebe meaningfully.

Annabel smiled after she was gone.

"Still our little Trelawney, isn't she?" she said fondly. "Even if she's having a little bit of a crush on a lad for herself now."

Phoebe and Catherine looked at each other in surprise. They both had had their suspicions, but Annabel was so definite about it that the girl had clearly taken her into her confidence. Serves them right, thought Rob, the poor girl was entitled to a few private thoughts of her own after all. And everyone had been so obsessed with the christening that they had all but forgotten about her.

"Oh," said Annabel. "She wouldn't tell me who it was of course, just some lad that hasn't given her as much as a sideways glance. And of course he's the love of her life and she'll be devastated without him. Now how many times have I heard _that?"_

"Probably more times than you can count," said Catherine. "But boys can be just as bad as girls when it comes to crushes."

Looking at Hal and Phoebe now, up there holding their first child, he recalled how devastated his son was when he had thought that he and Phoebe would never marry. It had certainly not been a case of unrequited love, but the obstacles had seemed insuperable at the time.

He noticed that Tom Williams was appropriately sober as he stood beside Emmeline. Rob had no doubt that he would take his role with regard to Maisie's spiritual upbringing very seriously. It was a good thing that Bernice had assured them that she would also help. He didn't think that Emmeline had the least bit of interest in any spiritual upbringing.

Phoebe had told him that she had volunteered for the job before Maisie was even conceived and that she had promised because of all the help that Emmeline had given them so that they could elope. He personally would have considered Sylvia a better choice, but perhaps she would be the next one. Trelawney was never wrong when it came to these kinds of things.

Following the baptism, Pastor Jason made a quick exit, explaining that his family was waiting for him for an out of town event. No one seemed to care except for Trelawney. But she had Francine to put her arm around her to comfort her in whatever little sorrow she was feeling now. He wondered who the object of the crush was and suspected that Francine knew.

If he had to make a guess, he would have to say Topher, her knight in shining armor. Of course she had probably been having those feelings for a long time, but since Topher was now involved in what looked like a long-term relationship with an older girl, Trelawney was forced to face facts. He was, for all intents and purposes, a man and she was a little girl. He knew that Topher had never encouraged her, but knowing Trelawney, she probably hadn't needed any encouragement. Much of the time she lived in her own little fantasy world.

He had seen her looking with longing at Hal and Sharon and Liam and Mary, the latter couple especially. When all was said and done, they were a jolly pair, constantly teasing and laughing with one another. He was also a good fifteen years older than her. The large age gaps between men and women as married couples did seem the norm for their culture. In some ways it made sense. The man was more mature and the woman more malleable to his ways, however it was a very old-fashioned concept. But so were betrothals from birth.

Thus the christening ceremony went off without a hitch. Now it was time to return home for the party. While the younger folk had been good as gold in the church, there was no telling what they might be up to next. However, with the very stern Aunt Justine creating a more serious presence, he imagined that it would be a very brave (or foolish) person who would act out when she was in that mood. He had already seen her frowning at Mary Chenoweth. He wondered if Liam, or anyone else, had warned the girl of the potential pitfalls of incurring her wrath.

Trelawney sat very quietly in the backseat with her two Aunties. Agatha put her arm around her and told her to cheer up. She gave her a little smile and snuggled closer. Whatever was going on had just gotten worse. He had seen Sarah go over to the other two girls after the baptism. The three had done some whispering together and then disappeared for about ten minutes. When they returned it was Sarah who had her arm around Trelawney's shoulders. It made him glad that he had sons.

When they arrived at home he went straight to the bartender that the caterer had brought and ordered him to put away the liquor until two o'clock. But because he was afraid that the kids would take off on their own, he told him that he could only serve Mimosas until then. Nodding, the bartender agreed. That will slow them down, anyway, thought Rob.

The second car that arrived after theirs was Bernice and Tom's with Prudence. As usual, Bernice had brought her a small gift, this time a pretty piece of jewelry. Inwardly he sighed. Would the constant flow of "things" never stop? But he had a little more tolerance when it came to Bernice. She had come so far from her sorrow at the loss of her daughter and her initial bitterness at Hal's remarriage that allowing her to spoil Prudence a bit was a small price to pay. In the case of his sons, the gift giving had turned into a popularity contest.

Prudence hung around the front gate, waiting for the Tuckers to come, but Tom and Bernice came right in. They had obviously never met the aunts before and not too surprisingly Bernice and Justine hit it off. They were both strong-minded women with a similar worldview. They went off to chat while Catherine began to rush around organizing everything and everyone, while Agatha pulled Trelawney aside to comfort her. Rob looked at Tom and offered him a drink.

"I told the bartender nothing but Mimosas for the others until after two, but I have a few beers stashed in the fridge," he said quietly.

"Sounds good to me," replied Tom. "I never liked champagne myself. Gives me a headache every time."

Rob looked at him impishly.

"Considering the way those kids were drinking yesterday, I'm hoping that they end up with a few headaches," he said. "They certainly sent me to bed with one."

"Well," said Tom. "At least they were properly sober for the main event. I do recall that your sons all were very . . . jolly, shall we say, at Hal and Helen's wedding. But this isn't a wedding."

"Try explaining that to my wife," he grimaced. "She is in heaven with all of this organizing and planning. Phoebe doesn't like any of it. I finally had to tell her yesterday to just grin and bear it. Fortunately both families have been taking advantage of the opportunity to get to know each other better and celebrate so there's blame on all sides."

"Well to get off of a sensitive subject," suggested Tom. "How are my grandchildren doing?"

"Well, let's see," he replied. "You've met Hal's girlfriend Sharon. She's a sweet girl and a great influence on our intense scientist. And Prudence is happy with Brownies and ballet. I assume that she's roped you into attending the _Nutcracker?"_

"We wouldn't miss it," he said. "Although I wouldn't say this to either Bernice or Prudence, the one that I am really looking forward to seeing Trelawney as Clara. Have you gotten a chance to see any rehearsals?"

"I've been sprucing up the sets a little," answered Rob. "She is truly remarkable. It's not just her dancing either. She really carries you along with her emotions. She's perfectly cast. In fact, she looks like a little angel flitting around in her nightgown for the dream sequences."

"That's the way that I always think of her," said Tom fondly. "She was the little angel who gave us back our daughter's family. But on the other side of the spectrum, the only one that you haven't mentioned is Butch. What's his problem?"

"Problem?" asked Rob, trying to dodge the issue.

"That was a pretty defiant gesture that he made back at the church when he refused to stay with the rest of the family up front," he commented. "Is he suffering from the old middle child syndrome?"

"That could be part of it," replied Rob. "He's got the same kind of chip on his shoulder that Ben used to get, and sometimes still does I think. At least that's part of what is driving this competition to see who can spend the most money. But Butch also has some kind of personal grudge against his father."

"For playing favorites with Hal?" asked Tom.

"Yes, that and the fact that now that Butch is finally bringing home the grades that we always knew that he was capable of getting," responded Rob. "Butch sees himself getting more attention and has interpreted that it is because he is finally doing what Hal has wanted all along. But he still won't acknowledge the fact that _all _the children are getting more attention because Hal has been on sabbatical. He has refused to make peace, even though Hal has tried several times now. And he can be downright surly with the rest of the family."

"That doesn't sound like Butch at all," said Tom in surprise. "Do you want me to try and talk to him?"

Rob shrugged.

"You can try, but so far whatever has been bothering him is something that he is keeping to himself," he said. "The way that I figure it, when he's ready to talk, he'll talk. Until then, every time we try becomes another excuse to be rude."

"Well," said Tom. "Maybe I'll have him up at the house some weekend, without Prudence. If he's the center of attention and away from the gang it might just get him to open up."

"Not to mention give the rest of the family a break," remarked Rob. "I do know that sometimes they feel like they're walking on egg shells around him."

"Okay," replied Tom decisively. "I'll talk to Bernice and remind her that Prudence isn't her only grandchild. Prudence likes playing Nana's little girl. On the way back from the church she said something about getting a 'sit down' from Annabel yesterday."

"The Figalillys take children's discipline very seriously," answered Rob. "Prudence tattled one too many times, _after _she had been warned to cut it out. She tried to pull her usual 'I forgot' routine but Annabel didn't buy it. After all, she did raise three daughters."

"True enough," said Tom. "I had a feeling that it was something like that. Prudence playing up the injured feelings a little more than she needed."

"And if you look at it another way," commented Rob. "It was just another form of tattling."

The two men looked at each other and laughed. Catherine had been somewhat miffed that Tom was chosen to be the godfather, but he kind of liked the idea. After all, she was the one who wanted to encourage more family bonding and what was it they always said? You can't pick your family.

As the rest of the family showed up, he could see her running around trying to make everyone feel at home. As the official host of the party, Rob joined her. He also was determined to enforce his rule on the alcohol allocation before one of the boys got to her. He had already had enough of that kind of bonding for one weekend.

_To be continued . . ._


	7. A Lovely Party

**A Lovely Party**

Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief as they pulled out of the church parking lot. Maisie snuggled into her arms and fell asleep, worn out from performing her part in the ceremony. Hal, his girlfriend Sharon, and Francine sat in the back seat. Butch had announced that he was driving back to Catherine's house with the Lenihans.

Prudence rode back with Tom and Bernice of course. She was grateful for the extra seat in the car, so that they wouldn't have to find a seat for Francine in another car. Needless to say, her mother had been omitted from the invitation. Francine quietly informed her that she was grateful. Once in the car, without thinking, Phoebe spoke her mind.

"Oh, how I wish that we could just go straight home and stay there!"

Her husband looked at her out of the corner of his eye and tried, but did not quite succeed, to extinguish a smile. She knew that in spite of her concerns, he was having a very amusing time watching the crazy antics of his brothers and her cousins.

"Honey, we've been over this often enough," he said patiently. "This is where we pay the piper. And you know your cousins better than I do. I am sure that their behavior is much more . . . controlled than it would have been at a wedding. And the girls looked very nice, didn't they?"

After his last remark, delivered with an almost childish pleasure, he turned his eyes to the road. She noticed that his shoulders were shaking as he tried to control his mirth. Despite all of the explanations and justifications made to her yesterday, she was still ticked off by their behavior. But she couldn't say anything after Rob had told her to let it go. He was the one who had final say. Francine broke into her thoughts.

"Wasn't it nice of your Uncle Bob to buy them all new dresses!" she commented. "That was very generous of him."

"Well, yesterday Uncle Ben and Uncle Bob came presents for all of us too," said Hal.

"Yes, I know," answered Francine. "Trelawney told me that they gave her more books."

Before Phoebe could say anything, Sharon made a remark of her own.

"I've never heard of so many people getting gifts at a christening that wasn't their own," she said, with less innocence in her voice than she was aiming for. "Is it a Protestant custom?"

"No!" said Phoebe forcefully. "What is the Catholic custom?"

"People give pretty cards and checks or savings bonds to start off the baby's college fund, at least that's what I have always seen done," she explained. "And if someone missed the baby shower they might give a small gift. But I've never seen this much fuss before."

"Me neither," said her husband definitively, as if trying to stop the conversation where it was.

Phoebe looked at him curiously.

"Of course, I haven't been to too many christenings," he admitted.

"Well, _I _have," she said. "And I really have never seen such fuss and bother. And certainly not so much money being thrown around."

"How did you celebrate christenings in the village, Mrs. Everett?" asked Francine.

"It was much simpler," she replied. "We would go to the church and have the baby baptized and then have a picnic on the green. Everyone would bring a hamper and share."

"Did the baby get presents?" she asked.

"Not really," she answered. "People in the village don't have things like college funds because if a child goes to university in England it's free. But it's a chance for family and friends to get together and socialize and fuss over the baby."

"Oh," she said. "Then why are you having this big party?"

"Ask my mother," said her husband Hal. "She wanted to get the family together to socialize too. It's just that everyone had to come from much farther away. She seems to have wanted to make sure that the trip was worth their while."

Phoebe saw her husband give her a sharp glance. She decided not to answer that remark. At this point, it didn't matter anyway. Everything that could be said, had been said, and more than once. And she really didn't want any bad blood between them. Rob had told her to cool it yesterday when she had complained about the shopping spree. At this point all she could do was grin and bear it.

When they arrived at his parents' house they discovered that several cars were already parked in front. Hal drove down to their driveway and they walked up. She could see that the party had already started. A group of her cousins and Hal's brothers was standing there in the yard drinking Mimosas. She clamped her mouth shut. She did not like the idea of drinking alcohol so early in the day.

But saying anything was futile. She had no doubt that it would be pointed out to her that technically, at 12:30, it was now afternoon. Bob came over and put his arm around her.

"Pretty swanky affair, huh sis?" he said cheerfully. "Mother always did know how to throw a good party."

"It's lovely," she said, calmly. "If you'll excuse me, I believe that the baby is hungry."

Bob was off like a shot. He knew what that meant and mere suggestion made him squeamish. Smiling to herself, she went inside with Auntie Anna following right behind. She sat beside her and gave her a sympathetic look.

"It'll all be over soon, lovey," she said softly. "You'll see. David and I never did see such a fuss. But he went over to the hotel last night and gave them what for. Threatened to let me loose on them if they didn't shape up."

"This was what I was trying to avoid with a wedding," she groused.

"Well, you did," she replied. "To a certain extent. Could you imagine what it would have been like if you had been married back in the village? Now remember all the good things that your Catherine has done for you over the past year. It won't hurt to let her have a bit of fun."

"I know," she sighed. "That's what Hal keeps reminding me. And of course, it's not that I'm ungrateful. I'm just a bit embarrassed by the unseemly display of wealth, not to mention the greed."

"Well," she said. "I do believe that Catherine is oblivious to all of that. I have to admit that I'm not very pleased with the behavior of my own children, especially young Mary. She's not as innocent as she's playing it. Liam told her ahead of time about the boys. I'm not too surprised this occurred. She is still really quite young and not to mention rather bit spoiled. And Emmeline and Sylvia were egging her on as well."

"Well," she said. "I discovered about a year ago that their uncles were famous for descending upon the family with 'loot.' Rob and Catherine used to do it too until they moved here. My husband referred to it as guilt giving."

"That's a little cynical," her Auntie commented. "But I suppose that's he's been living with it for most of their lives."

"That's what I can tell," she said. "Well, it looks like this one has decided that it's time for another nap. Wish I could take one."

"If you want," she offered. "I'll make your excuses."

"No," she said slowly. "I'll put her down and go out. Besides, I would really like to spend some time with my own friends. I've been so busy with the children and everything that I haven't had much time for myself lately."

Auntie Anna looked at her sympathetically.

"Are you sure that you'll be able to manage if we bring little Trelawney Rose home to you?" she asked gently.

"I miss her dreadfully," replied Phoebe. "And I won't feel completely settled until she's back. Now that we've found the proper school for her, she'll be no trouble at all."

Auntie Anna looked at her doubtfully.

"Where Trelawney Rose goes, trouble follows, as they say," she answered sagely. "If it's not one thing it's another. And she's at that age, you know."

"What age?" she asked carefully.

"Well, you know, she's having a little bit of a crush now on some lad that doesn't even see her," she said. "Her words, not mine. But it's normal. If you give her a little extra attention, she'll be over it in no time. But she's also missing her Mum and her Papa. She broke down when she saw me, you know."

"I didn't know," she said thoughtfully.

"Well, lovey," said her Auntie. "I'm not one to speak out of turn . . ."

"But you will."

"Of course," she replied with a smile. "Now don't take this the wrong way, but you've been so busy worrying about your cousins' bad behavior that you've missed your sister and her sadness."

"Uncle David won't hold it against me, will he?" she asked anxiously.

"Of course not," she assured her soothingly. "He and Rob have worked it all out. Lewis has the papers, or he will, once Emmeline returns his briefcase, and you all will go to court tomorrow. He will be making the announcement tonight when we go back down to your place after all the guests have left. She knows it but you know how these things work. David and Rob will call the family together and David will say his piece. Even if we're in the states we need to do these things proper. The little one will be home by Christmas."

Phoebe considered these two most recent developments. Of course, she had known that Trelawney had a crush on Topher. It was a little surprising that Auntie Anna knew about it. She had not realized that she was still mooning over him to the degree that she seemed to be. And of course it made sense for her to take one look at Auntie and be reminded of Mum. The resemblance was certainly apparent to her, but she supposed that she was so focused on the baby that it had not impacted her in the same way.

Having Trelawney home for Christmas would be a special treat. No one could give either of them a more precious gift. And once she was home, then it would be easier to watch over her and comfort her when she needed it. Catherine had filled so many of these emotional needs in her sister that she now realized that they would need to reconnect and rebuild some of their sisterly bonds that had frayed.

After she had put down Maisie for her nap in Trelawney's room, she went out into the backyard to greet her guests. Because she had spent time with her cousins yesterday, she was able to feel comfortable approaching her friends from the nursing home and ignoring them. She assumed that they would be relieved anyway.

They were seated with Uncle Charlie who it looked as if Jim had buttonholed into conversation, probably about World War I, Cornwall, or both. Of course knowing her uncle, she was sure that he didn't mind. And after his two hour chess game with Prudence yesterday, he was no doubt happy to have a good excuse to avoid her.

"Well, Phoebe," said Aunt Lottie. "The baby was certainly well-behaved this morning. Why there was scarcely a peep out of her!"

Mrs. Darmstadt nodded in approval.

"Yes," she agreed. "It seems that the infants can go two ways in these things, good as gold or hell on earth."

"Rosemary!" exclaimed Mrs. Kaufman. "How could you say something like that!"

"It's true and you know it, Matilda," replied Aunt Lottie, for once agreeing with her friend. "Infants are very unpredictable at that age. I suppose the little one is sleeping?"

"Yes, she is," answered Phoebe. "She'll be up in an hour or so and you'll all get to see her again."

"That was a lovely christening dress that she wore," said Mrs. Kaufman. "Now you say that your Grandmother made it?"

"Oh, yes," replied Uncle Charlie. "Mother made them for all of her grandchildren and little suits for the boys. You know, Phoebe, Clara has put Johnny's away for any of his boys. If you ever have a son, then we'll be pleased to let you borrow it."

"Thank you, Uncle Charlie," she said. "Aunt Anna has already offered to let us borrow hers. But I suppose that if one of her grandchildren needs it at the same time then it will be a good thing to have it in reserve."

"I can only hope that someday soon, that our Johnny will need it," he said. "He's more than old enough to have married by now and settled in the village as it is. And he should have no trouble finding a bride."

"I'm surprised that he was never betrothed," commented Phoebe.

"I have my wife to blame for that," he said. "No girl had ever been good enough for her Johnny. But after me, he will be _paterfamilias _someday. It would be a good thing if he were actually a _pater_ himself."

"Well," said Mrs. Darmstadt. "I have a niece who might fit the bill nicely."

Uncle Charlie and Phoebe exchanged an amused look.

"That's very nice of you to offer, Rosemary," he said politely. "But our kind usually marry among our own. It'll be a village girl for him. Perhaps even one of young Mary's older sisters."

"Another family tie," said Phoebe without thinking. "My we do tangle ourselves up then, don't we?"

"Chenoweths are good people," he replied logically. "I was a bit surprised when Liam picked Mary over Gwyneth or Morag. All three are very pretty girls and come from the same good family. I suppose that he thought that the youngest would be the most pliable."

"Well, he was away from home too long if he thought that," said Phoebe laughing. "She's always been the one with the most ginger, and I don't mean the color of her hair."

"She's a pip, that one," he agreed. "But she'll keep the lad in line and give him a run for his money. Think that Trelawney's right about the nipper?"

"It's difficult to say," answered Phoebe. "It _could _have been one of her pronouncements, or she could have been teasing. It may even have been a little bit of both. Mary certainly her fair share of teasing her when they were in school together back home."

"Now what could she have teased her about?" asked Mrs. Kaufman with a note of concern in her voice. "I was under the impression that you were all very protective of her."

"Maybe teasing is too strong a word for it," amended Phoebe. "But when she was a little girl, Trelawney was full of even more fancies than she is now, if you can believe it. She was also very trusting back then. Mary would trick her into saying things that were likely to get her in trouble with the teachers. She's much less gullible now."

"But still very innocent," said Jim. "And it seems to me that she will always be that way. But her new school is a success, isn't it?"

"Of course, it is," interjected Aunt Lottie. "I could have told you that months ago. You can't go wrong turning your child over to the Sisters of Mercy. And more children today should go to all-girls and all-boys schools. It would keep their minds on their schoolwork."

"Yes, it would!" declared Mrs. Darmstadt. "Now back there in Brooklyn, I went to Our Lady of Wisdom. I would argue that the DW's ran a tighter ship."

"Well, since the DW's never came west, we'll never know if one of their schools would have been better for our Trelawney," replied Aunt Lottie.

"Now, girls," interrupted Mrs. Kaufman in exasperation. "Why don't we find a topic that we can agree on?"

"When pigs fly," muttered Jim to Uncle Charlie.

And so Phoebe's spirits were revived by the familiar and good-natured bickering of the two older women. Once Hal had referred to them as the comic relief in the drama of their lives. And tucked between their humorous repartee, were little gems of wisdom. Mostly, she found that they helped her to keep things in perspective whenever she got too caught up in the more narrow events of daily life with a house full of children.

Looking over, she noticed that Lois was sitting and chatting with Chris and Janet Tucker. Since these guests were also her friends, she excused herself to join them.

"Well, this is a lovely party," said Janet. "Your mother-in-law certainly went all out."

"Not as much as she would have liked to," replied Phoebe. "If she had had her way, it would have been the wedding reception that we never had."

"I'm guessing that coffee hour after the blessing last year didn't count?" asked Lois.

"Not by a long shot," said Phoebe. "This was the compromise. Although looking around it does seem a little silly. Especially since the guest of honor is blithely napping upstairs."

"Don't worry," said Chris. "These things have a tendency to diminish in size as you add more children. I believe that by the time Miriam came along, it was just cake with the grandparents."

"Yes, well, we'll see," said Phoebe, avoiding the issue of more children. "So Lois, tell me. How is Mike doing in New York? Is he coming home for Thanksgiving?"

"He's well," replied Lois. "And no, he won't be here for Thanksgiving. It's too expensive to fly in for the busiest holiday of the year. But he will be back for Christmas. He's looking forward to seeing Trelawney again."

"And she's looking forward to seeing him," said Phoebe. "I believe that they've been exchanging letters."

"Yes, that sounds right," she said. "Of course it's not the same. Last time I spoke with him on the phone he said that he couldn't wait to see his 'little sister' again. I don't think that he will ever be able to thank her enough."

"Well after what he did for her last summer," said Phoebe. "In fact what you both did for us, I would say that that debt has been paid in full."

"Well," she said. "That was a pretty dicey moment that we had there at the theatre trying to get her away from Mrs. Fowler, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I haven't heard much about the Princess these days."

"Neither have we and we don't miss her," answered Phoebe. "Of course she wouldn't be seen in a church if her life depended on it. And none of the relatives present are the least bit inclined to drop in for a visit."

"Can't say that I blame them," commented Lois. "How is Topher doing with the college process? Has he gotten all his applications in?"

"I wouldn't know," said Janet tensely. "He barely speaks to us."

"But don't you have to pay the application fees?" she asked.

"He's taking care of that himself," said Chris. "These days he's making more money than I am with that band of his. He manages his own finances. He even has his own checking account."

"He's going a little overboard, isn't he?" asked Lois. "He's very likely to get a scholarship. He's got five siblings, you're not exactly rolling in dough, he's a genius, and he's the first in his family to go to college. He should focus on his studies."

"Why don't _you _tell him that," replied Chris bitterly. "In addition to not listening to us, he won't listen to his guidance counselor either. And he hasn't gone near Pastor Jason in months. All he does, from what we can tell, is play with his band and hang out with his new girlfriend, Jeannie."

"Jeannie Jones?" asked Lois in amazement.

"The one and only," said Janet acidly.

"How did he get mixed up with that little tramp?" she asked bluntly.

"She is the new lead singer for the band, which has changed its name to 'Jeannie and the Jets,'" replied Janet tensely. "The twins tell us that she seems to have Topher pretty much under her thumb and he wants to be there."

Lois clearly had not known anything about this.

"I guess that I've lost track of all that sort of stuff now that Mike has graduated," she said. "That girl is bad news from the word go. Thankfully, she was never interested in Mike. Redheads aren't her type. Although from what I've heard, just about every living, breathing male is her type. I'm surprised that Topher would have fallen for her. I would have thought that he had better judgment than that . . . not to mention better taste."

"Well, he's never had a girlfriend before," said Chris. "Maybe it's some kind of belated puppy love. And I guess it's like him to stick with a girl once he took up with her. The mystery is why he took up with her in the first place."

Phoebe had been silent throughout this whole exchange. It suddenly occurred to her that there was another side to this situation that she hadn't fully considered. She had been so concerned with her sister that she had forgotten that Topher's parents might also be broken-hearted. Or that he might be throwing away his future. But if the latter were true, then surely her son Hal would know and have mentioned it.

"Hal says that he still sees him at science club and stage crew," she said slowly. "He won't give him the time of day, but I guess he's still involved in those activities."

"And I sincerely doubt that Jeannie goes to science club meetings," said Lois quickly. And as for stage crew, I'm sure that she is on stage rather than behind the scenes. How was his report card?"

"The usual," said Chris with a note of hope in his voice. "Straight A's. And he still is first in line for valedictorian. Of course, he's so far ahead that it would be nearly impossible for anyone to catch up with him, especially with the college courses that he's been taking. They get weighted more heavily into his average than the high school ones do."

"Well, there you are," said Phoebe with a cheeriness that she didn't feel. "He can't be too far off track. It's always possible that things are being exaggerated by the high school gossips."

"Well Rachel and Rebecca wouldn't gossip about something like this, even Rebecca who has always been jealous of him," replied Janet. "They know how upset we are. Maybe what's going on isn't quite as bad as we thought, but it's still pretty bad."

Phoebe agreed but didn't say so. Looking over at Lois, she could see that she didn't entirely buy it either. Once again she had to wonder if she hadn't pushed him into this. But what else could she have said? She had only told him the truth about her sister. Of course she had known that he was a very sensitive young man. And Catherine had said something earlier about boys being just as bad as girls with their first love.

Looking around, she could see that her cousins and brothers-in-law were engaging in a bit of their own injudicious behavior again. But suddenly, in light of everything that she had just realized about Topher, it didn't seem quite as bad. She quietly excused herself and returned to Auntie Anna's side. Her dear auntie gave her a sympathetic smile and gestured over to Aunt Justine who was approaching the young folk with determination in her step and thunder in her face. Phoebe realized that she did not have to say another word on the subject.

Turning around, she saw that Uncle Alfred was now the center of attention of the kids. Even Rachel and Rebecca were amused by his songs and antics. And naturally, he was eating it all up. When she had first told Hal about him coming, he had grumbled loudly. However, she had pointed out his entertainment value for the children, so he had closed his mouth. Considering everything that she was putting up with this weekend, Uncle Alfred seemed like a minor inconvenience. Besides, he and his ukulele were staying at the hotel at Bob's expense

She looked over at a corner of the yard and noticed that Trelawney, Francine, and Sarah were sitting with their heads close together. She imagined that Trelawney would be happy to be living next-door to Francine again. Elspeth was seated just in front of them, on guard as usual.

It was a reminder that they were about to become a "two dog" family. She would certainly have to have a word with Waldo about that. He had been friendly enough when Elspeth had come over from England, but this was different. And Elspeth _had _to be with Trelawney. Neither would bear the separation again. It was fortunate that Waldo was a very understanding animal.

Then she caught a glimpse of her husband Hal standing off to the side with Cousin Johnny. She knew that Johnny really hated leaving the village for any reason and his last two trips out were both under the orders of his mother. She could only assume that Uncle Charlie had wanted the company or perhaps was even trying to save him from a week alone with old Aunt Clara.

Watching them, she realized that they were talking about fishing and then remembered that one Johnny's few hobbies was fishing. Since Hal also liked to fish and he was on sabbatical, it was something that they might do together. After the first couple of times out with the kids, they had lost interest. Since he didn't like to go alone, he hadn't been out in over a year.

Tomorrow, he and Rob were golfing with David and Lewis in the late morning. The court papers would no doubt be filed earlier. She knew that she couldn't say anything else about it, but in her mind this was the kind of family bonding that built lasting relationships. But of course, everyone in the family was not like her. But at least the drinking was more low key today.

She was hoping that it would stay that way considering the fact that her friends were present, not to mention all of the children. Tonight if they all wanted to go back to the hotel and "tie one on" it was fine with her. In fact, now that Maisie was baptized, she was willing to just let Catherine have her party and be done with it. In fact, Janet had been very right. It was a lovely party. She might as well enjoy it.

_To be continued . . ._


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Following the party, David, Annabel, Charlie, Catherine, Rob, and Trelawney walked down to Phoebe's with the family and his two sisters. The children had school the next day and the baby was once again asleep. It seemed like every time that she woke up, she was passed from person to person until she cried again for her Mum and then fell asleep.

Now that the festivities were over for the christening, David Figalilly decided that it was time to turn his attention to the little one still in his care. Poor mite. Perhaps knowing that she would be home with her Phoebe for Christmas would make her happy. The schoolgirl crushes were hard for a normal child to bear, but no doubt for one with Trelawney's sensitivities had it even worse.

So after Phoebe had put the baby to bed, he called her, Hal, Rob, Catherine, Annabel, and Trelawney into the living room for a little chat. Charlie, Justine, and Agatha joined them as well. His children and Rob's, with Uncle Alfred (thankfully) in tow, had gone back to the hotel to finish their "celebrating."

"I think that you all have a pretty good idea of what I'm going to say," he began. "So I'll just say it. Trelawney Rose, it's time for you to go home to your Phoebe. Lewis has made all of the legal arrangements. We'll go to the courthouse tomorrow and sign all of the paperwork. Little one, you'll be home for Christmas."

"Thank you, Uncle David," she said politely.

All of the adults in the room stared at her. David had expected a much more enthusiastic response than this. In fact, he had been looking forward to it. Nothing was more endearing than when the little one got all worked up about something. She was very generous with her hugs and kisses. Something was definitely not right with the child and it had to do with than schoolgirl crushes and missing her Mum.

Trelawney's muted response restrained Phoebe's although he could see that she was very clearly overjoyed. Trelawney looked around and then quietly asked to be excused. Before she left, she dutifully gave him a hug and a kiss. He patted her on the back and let her go. She walked out in the direction of the backyard.

"I'll go," said Phoebe.

"No, I will," said Annabel. "I have more experience with this than you do, or you, Catherine."

Catherine Everett had stood up to follow her the minute that she left, but now looked at Rob uncertainly.

"Let Annabel go," he said gently. "She's the only one who seems to know what the problem is."

Annabel nodded and smiled inscrutably. After she left, Agatha suddenly perked up.

"How old is the child now?" she asked.

"Twelve and a half," said Justine with a deep sigh. "Can't you remember anything?"

"Well, with all of these nieces and nephews, sometimes it's hard to keep track," she replied. "But now that I know that, I think that I know what's up with the poor child. But I'll not say anything. Annabel will confirm it."

"Really, Agatha!" exclaimed Justine in frustration. "You can be such a trial at times. I cannot imagine that I have been flying around the world with you for all of these years."

"Me neither," replied Uncle Charlie. "But I can't imagine you flying with anyone else. Don't know what you would have done if she'd decided to stay home with Roger What's-his-name."

But the humorous bantering could not distract David from his primary concern. They all loved the little one and if she couldn't be made happy by finding out that she was going home to her Phoebe, then nothing could make her happy. He wanted to get back to his home in the village in a few days as planned, but he surely couldn't leave her like this.

To his relief, Annabel returned fairly quickly. She was smiling softly to herself.

"It's alright," she said. "Just as I suspected."

"Was it what I suspected?" asked Agatha.

"Yes, it was," she confirmed. "Let me put this delicately. Our little one has become a woman. She hasn't told anyone but her dear friends Francine and Sarah. You know, they're a little older than she is. She just didn't know how to bring up the subject with you. But it explains the moods and the lack of energy. She'll be fine in a few days. You'll see."

"But why didn't she tell us?" asked Catherine, who looked hurt as well as puzzled.

"She didn't want to be a bother," replied Annabel with a smile. "You were all caught up with the christening party and Phoebe was all caught up with being annoyed about it. But she turned to her friends and they helped her out, so it's all turned out right in the end."

"Well, " said David, wanting to get off the topic as quickly as possible. "All's well that ends well. But I think that there's a bit more to it."

"Yes, there is," replied Annabel. "And it's a reminder to us all that she's still a little girl. You see, she's worried about the dollhouse. She's concerned because there isn't really room in Prudence's room for two such houses. She doesn't want to leave it behind at your house, Rob. She missed it terribly when she left it behind when she left it in England. It means more to her than you may realize."

"I know how much it means to her," said Phoebe. "But I have to admit that even I hadn't thought of it."

"Well," said Hal. "I propose this. I know that if we were to put the house in Prudence's room, then she wouldn't be able to stay away from it anyway. And I know how Trelawney feels about anyone touching it other than Phoebe. I suggest that we put it in the nursery. Maisie is almost too large for the cradle anyway and if she was sleeping in there, it would be a deterrent to Prudence's snooping."

"Maybe," said Annabel doubtfully. "I've had three daughters and the snooping of the older sisters by the younger is nearly impossible to deter or stop. But I have another suggestion. I think that it would be better for Trelawney if she shared the room with Maisie rather than Prudence. She doesn't need a desk and she will need the privacy. I've seen the room and there's plenty of room for a bed. And Phoebe, remember that you always shared a room with her once she was out of the cradle."

"Yes, I can see that now," said Phoebe. "Besides, in spite of the age difference, she and Maisie are far more alike than they are different. And something tells me that Maisie will also like the company."

"Then it's settled," said Hal. "Trelawney comes home for Christmas and then she and Maisie move into their new bedroom together."

"And then you get some privacy of your own, Professor," added Agatha suggestively. "Do I see another little Everett there in that twinkle in your eye?"

"Oh, Agatha!" exclaimed Justine.

David shook his head.

"The more things change," he said. "The more they stay the same. But I want this to be a happy Christmas for all."

"It will be," Rob assured him. "I'm going to make sure of it!"

David looked around at his family, the new and the old alike. Phoebe may have married outside of their own, but she had married herself into a family of good and loving people. She would have more children and the little one would grow up safe and secure.

He knew that Meg and Owen could not have wanted more for their daughters in life. In a few days he would be flying back home to be getting ready for the wedding of his oldest son. Then his own line would be assured of continuing. The little one had already assured him of that. And his brother would have wanted that for the family a well. Yes, as Grandmother Figalilly always said, things work out for the best when given time. And Grandmother Figalilly was never wrong.

**The End**


End file.
